


Hellsing: London Calling

by 1andOnlyMandiCakes81



Category: Hellsing, Manga - Fandom, anime - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, Drama, Epic Battles, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, Gen, Hellsing Organization, Horror, Implied Relationships, Magic, Monsters, Other, Relationship(s), Rivalry, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, hellsing - Freeform, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1andOnlyMandiCakes81/pseuds/1andOnlyMandiCakes81
Summary: There is more to this organization than meets the eye, and more than one monstrous agent at its command.





	1. Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang

**Author's Note:**

> AU of Hellsing Ultimate (obviously!), taking place just before the attack in Badrick.

For most, this was a typical London evening, the city alight and the streets damp from the misting rain. Londoners went about their own routines, skirting a few tourists clumped together as they poured over a map. How they must be enjoying themselves, these tourists, listing off what to see next before calling it a night. How the city seemed to be obliging them, with an experience that could've been ripped from a movie, complete with overdone stereotypes and fog.  
But none of this mattered to the lanky man standing by himself on the street corner. The scowling look on his face kept others at bay. Coupled with his attire of choice, dressed head to toe in dark colors, everything about his presence screamed 'keep away'. However, the man himself viewed his surroundings cautiously, shifting his sight as if he were alert to being watched. He checked his wristwatch, then continued his own path. Already odd in his mannerisms, he'd also look over his shoulder periodically. Was he worried about being followed? He paused midway down the block, then hurried across the street. With this thought in mind, he weaved his way between buildings, up one street then down another. The man seemed sure in the notion he was being tailed, although by whom he didn't know.

For the shadowed figure perched high on a rooftop, it was a rather amusing thing to witness. Then came a call through the shadowed stranger's earpiece.

" _Has the target been sighted, over._ "

"Affirmative..." said the figure.

" _Location, over._ "

Shifting position, the figure's eyes remained fixed to the man dwindling in the distance. With a feminine brogue coating every word, the figure replied, "Earl's Court. Looks like the little rat's headed for the Metro."

" _Roger that. Keep the target in sight, sending additional operatives now, over._ "

"No need. I can handle this myself."

The figure stood then faded into the blackness.  
More aware than he had been before, the lanky rat in question quickened his pace. Only when he spotted the tube station did his nerves steady. On his approach, other similarly dressed men converged with him, and together they passed through the entrance. Save for them, the station was empty. This was surprising, as they had expected any number of people to still be present despite the influx of those that'd just left the building. Something had changed, and drastically. Although, there wasn't much time to alter their plans. If they were going to be able to do anything of significance it had to be quick and dirty, the next train would be arriving soon. Immediately this small gang set to work once they reached the track platform, undoing their heavy bags and pulling out all manner of oddities. Three of the men began drawing on the walls with paint, scribing circles and gliphs, while the other three in the meantime hastily stuck charges into wads of c4. Suddenly they paused their task as the expected train arrived. Although, instead of stopping to release its passengers, it kept speeding down the track. As the men watched the train race by with perplexed hesitation, they then looked though the windows of the passing cars, and saw a lone stranger standing on the opposite platform.  
It was a young woman in dark sunglasses, early twenties possibly, her black hair tied back. Dressed in a black trench coat and boots, her skin deathly pale, she could've easily been labeled one of those goth or punk genre lovers. Without closer inspection, it was difficult to tell. However, a closer inspection was exactly what the men got. Within seconds of the train's rear passing by, that black clad young woman zipped across the tracks with such speed it seemed like she had teleported herself. Before her feet even touched the ground, her blood red lips formed a vicious grin as she reared back her fist, then sent it flying into the closest man's jaw. His body rocketed into the wall behind them, further startling the others that had been painting their odd symbols. Shaky hands reached into pockets, pulling out knives. Their task on hold, the gang readied themselves for a fight. The instant they looked back to the young woman, their blood ran cold. In her delicate hands she gripped a pair of revolvers, aimed and ready to fire. 

"Evenin', lads."

The look of her face sent a chill down the men's backs, the wide grin of this girl revealing a mouthful of pointed teeth. Each member of this gang could scarcely take their eyes off her, or the glowing red eyes that peeked over her sunglasses.

"Just what do you think you're doin' anyway?" she asked with a laugh. "Tryin' to blow a hole to Hell? Not with those silly scribbles."

One man gathered enough courage to respond, "We're just-"

The red-eyed young woman cut him off, "Look, I don't really care. But I'll say, if you're lookin' to get to Hell, I'll happily send you there." And with that, she fired a shot into the man's head. "Who's next, eh?"

The woman paused a moment before selecting her next target. Footsteps were coming this way, and with them the sound of weaponry. These must be the backup operatives she had denied. Of course they'd be sent anyway. Why couldn't she be left to do her job as she saw fit?   
A moment later there entered a small number of military clad soldiers, and leading them was a young blonde girl seemingly not much older than the revolver-wielding rogue. And, on their uniforms, patches signifying their affiliation - the Hellsing Organization.

"Wait!" the young blonde called out as she lowered her large rifle. "They need to be taken in alive."

However, this only proved to be an advantage to the targeted gang, as the two that had been frozen in place at the feet of the raven-haired stranger leapt up, knocking her guns from her hands as they tried to flee. In this process, one took the makeshift bomb in his grip and lobbed it at the newly arrived soldiers and their leader. As the bomb flew along its arc, the wielder was then gripped by the scalp, the nails of the girl digging into his flesh as she wrenched his head clean off his neck.  
The Hellsing soldiers and their leader immediately took a dive away from the thrown bomb. Most were able to take cover in the lower recess of the train tracks, while the unlucky few were left victims to the blast.  
In the chaos, the remaining members of the gang began to scatter.

The raven-haired girl called out to the Hellsing group leader as she charged after one, "Get off your arse and get those bastards!"

Wordlessly, the young blonde got back onto the platform after switching her rifle for a regular handgun. Only, as she tried to take careful aim to simply wound them, she neglected the gore that coated the ground. Slipping on the viscera, that intended shot missed and hit the ceiling. The girl landed with a loud slap and a yelp, while a few out of her company tried in vain to capture the two runaway men.  
That left the one gang member pursued by the other young woman. He didn't make it very far before she was on him, sending punches quick as lightening to his lower back. He let out a pained screamed as he collapsed to his knees, and then again as the girl snagged a fistful of his hair. There was a wicked gleam to her eyes, a kind of anger as well as the look of a predator about to taste their prey.

Again the Hellsing group leader called out, "Wait, please! Sir Integra ordered them to be brought in for questioning!" If she was looking for a positive outcome, she was sorely disappointed. The red-eyed woman only became more incensed at her exclaim.

"There won't be a need for questioning once I claim his blood," the woman said, her eyes blazing underneath the long fringe of her hair as she tore away a portion of the man's clothing. The tension in his muscles revealed the thick veins of his neck, throbbing with his rapid heartbeat. Entranced by this and the scent of his fear, the woman leaned in close, then sank her fangs into his throat. There was a palpable pleasure in this as her eyes rolled back, savoring every drop until she had her fill. When it was all over, she unceremoniously cast the man's body aside, then sent that fiery gaze toward the young leader.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" she asked.

The Hellsing operative quivered at that glare, "I'm...m-my name is...S-Seras. S-Seras Victoria. I-I just recently joined."

"Recently?" the glaring woman asked with a raised eyebrow. "How recent?"

"The other day, actually," Seras replied.

"And already the head bitch is sendin' you out on missions, without even properly trainin' you first...bloody marvelous."

Rolling her eyes, the woman proceeded to collect her revolvers, stuffing them into the shoulder holsters inside her trench coat.  
While the remaining soldiers grouped together to work on the details of the mission and their losses, Seras approached this unknown colleague. A wild air swirled about this woman, and it was certainly unnerving, but nonetheless she countered the woman's brashness with some of her own.

Seras squared her shoulders, "I don't know who you are, but that's your superior you're insulting."

"I'm quite aware of that, my girl," the woman retorted. "And the name's Anya, Anya O'Connell."

The name didn't ring a bell, but then Seras was still new to the organization. On a whim her thoughts veered from the situation at hand. "I see. You're Irish, then?"

There was a clear sarcasm to Anya's tone, "Very good, my girl. Any other obvious traits you'd like to mention? If not, then I'll be off."

Anya went to leave, then stopped. She sniffed the air, slowly turning her attention back to Seras. There was something off about this girl, underneath all the human blood covering the front of her uniform.

"You're a newly made draculina, aren't you..." Anya asked. Suddenly she reached out and took Seras by the collar, taking an even deeper inhale of her scent.

"Oy, steady on!" Seras protested, grabbing Anya by the wrist.

Anya sighed heavily as she released Seras, an audible bite to her words, "He made you, didn't he..."

Seras was taken aback, "He?"

"Alucard, you halfwit! Seriously, are you all tits and no intellect?"

Taking the girl's stunned look as her answer, Anya fervently shook her head in disbelief and annoyance. Without saying another word, she turned on her heel and faded into thin air.

***

The ride back to the organization's main headquarters at the Hellsing Manor seemed to drag on. Sitting toward the back of the truck with what remained of her unit, Seras stared out the rear window. Every mile felt like an eternity as they left the city limits. Of course, eternity was something she was going to have to get used to, as well as the cold stare of the organization's director. This mission was a colossal failure, and she certainly wasn't looking forward to having to explain it either. Maybe it would've been better if they had listened to that Anya woman and her denial for reinforcements. Sure, those gang members would've been taken out - that was the original plan before the need for information, after all. And at least then, part of the assigned unit wouldn't have been killed in the process. To her mind, there were no clear cut answers as to what should've been done. Her instincts as a former police officer called for her to heed her superior's instructions, the reason for the sudden changes didn't matter. Bring the targets in for questioning, that was the final order. Although, it was unexpected that the gang would be armed with explosives, on top of their alleged use of witchcraft. What was the protocol for that?  
Seras leaned back in her seat with a soft sigh. That Anya woman might've been onto something. Seras was out her element here, and the lack of training didn't help. She was an officer of the law, not a soldier, and knew precious little about the supernatural or the occult. None of it was real, just nightmarish stories and movies for the sake of entertainment. That was what she had always thought at least. Monsters - werewolves, vampires - they didn't exist. How wrong she was. Staring at the blue eyes of her own reflection, Seras wondered. What was going to happen now that she was one of them? Reflexively she touched her fingers to the spot on her neck.

_He made you, didn't he..._

Did Anya know him, Seras' master, Alucard? With how her life had been going so far since that night, Seras was willing to believe anything was possible. Of course she knows him, because why not. All vampires probably know each other. She wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if that were true.  
The truck stopped. Finally they were back at the Hellsing Manor.  
Stepping out of the truck, Seras mentally crossed her fingers that the dreaded briefing would wait until the next day. She could go for some peace and quiet, perhaps a nap, before Sir Integra issued a verbal lashing. From the barracks side of the compound, Seras entered the mansion. As it happened, there was a man standing near the corridor that lead to the lower levels. He greeted her with a subtle smile.

"Good evening, Miss Victoria," he said. "How was the mission?" 

"Oh, Walter..." Seras sighed as she dropped her face into her hand, then raked it through her hair, "it was terrible."

"I see. Well, why not tell me about it as I escort you to your room, hm? By chance, I have a few things to go over with you, perhaps you'll feel better after sharing the more sordid details."

Seras returned Walter's smile. If there was one person she could count on for a kind word, it was the gentlemanly butler. And as they casually traversed the long hallway to her quarters, Seras did as Walter suggested. She paused for a moment once they reached her door. When she mentioned the woman she had met, Walter's demeanor changed.

"Do you know her, Walter? That Anya woman?" Seras asked.

Walter cleared his throat, "I do. Being the Hellsing butler, and a former operative myself, I am well acquainted with the Hellsing Organization's other supernatural agents."

"Is she, um...is she a-" Seras couldn't help the stammer of her voice.

"A vampire such as yourself? Of course."

As her next question gnawed at her brain, Seras fidgeted her fingers to ease the tension, "Does he...I mean, does my master know her?"

"Master Alucard?" Walter made a wry grin, "Indeed he does. But, don't worry yourself about that-"

Walter reached for the doorknob to let Seras into her room, just as the phone inside began to ring. Quickly, Seras ran to answer it. Her hopes for a postponed briefing were dashed as Integra ordered the draculina to her office. Then, as Seras replaced the receiver, the Hellsing director's voice boomed angrily over the mansion's intercom system.

"O'CONNELL! GET YOUR ASS IN MY OFFICE NOW!"

Twenty minutes passed since that call. For the majority of that time, it was only Seras and Walter standing near her desk, watching Integra's back as she viewed the grounds of the estate beyond her window. She had barely touched the cigar that steadily burned to ash in her grip. How much longer were they going to have to wait? When her patience finally waned, Integra reached for the phone on her desk, cursing under her breath. Softly ranting her inner thoughts, she punched the number pad for a specific line. If that woman wasn't answering her phone, or responding to the call over the intercom, there was only one place Integra could think of where the current source of her annoyance could be; the one place in the whole of the compound where the intercom system didn't reach.

  

Deep in the Manor's depths, beyond a darkened stone corridor, was a wide empty space. Empty, save for a high-backed chair at the center and its matching end-table, and on that chair sat two embraced figures. Neither said a word. Having had their fill of the blood packets that littered the floor, they were busying themselves with each other's lips.  
Anya straddled the lap of a man in a crimson coat, her fingers tangled in his hair after having tossed away his hat. His hands clutched at the blouse knotted at her waist, then plunged them down her back and around her rear. Stroking up and down the length of her thighs, his gloved fingertips tickled her skin as they dipped under her plaid skirt. As their ardent embraces were about to reach their zenith, the phone beside them lit up with an incoming call, its ring echoing loudly of the stone walls.  
Seemingly annoyed, the man answered, Anya sharing in his mood.

" _Is she with you?_ "

It was easy to tell that Integra was failing at hiding her anger. The light chuckle in response only fanned the flame.

" _Damn it, don't laugh, answer me. Is she with you?_ "

Again the man chuckled, his response a playful tease, "You'll have to be more specific... Just who is this 'she' you're talking about, Integra?"

" _Don't play games with me, Alucard_ , " Integra commanded. " _As it is, I know she's there, I can hear her blasted snickering in the background. The both of you are to come to my office, immediately._ "

With that, the call ended. The lone vampires held each other's gaze, both wearing the same smirking look. Integra always seemed to have impeccable timing. Anya hands had been fixed to Alucard's waist when the phone rang, just about to undo his trousers, and his had been roaming about her ass in search of her undergarments. The mood was thoroughly ruined.

Anya crossed her arms, "Do we really need to go right this minute?"

"Seems like it, " Alucard replied. "For the moment, it'd be best not to piss her off any further."

"Fiiiine," Anya groaned, "I suppose we can pick this up later."

One last kiss, and she climbed off Alucard's lap. She fixed her blouse, adjusted her corset and skirt, then picked up her discarded revolvers. Once the holsters were strapped about her shoulders, the vampiress threw on her trench coat over her arm. Knowing the No-Life King would be right behind her, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the shadows.  
  
Integra sat herself down at her desk, taking a slow drag off a freshly lit cigar. For a few moments, everything was silent again. However, that peace was shattered by the corpse suddenly appearing out of thin air over the young director's desk, then landing with a dull thump on the polished wood. Integra and Seras swore out loud almost in unison; even Walter was slightly aghast. As the three were coming to grips with what just happened, two more joined in on the excitement.  
Anya ascended from the center of the floor, while Alucard phased through the bookshelf just behind Seras.

"Good evening, Police Girl," he said with a grinning nod. "And to you, my master..."

Anya stood before Integra with a bold smirk across her youthful countenance, as if she were proud of the corpse draped atop the director's desk.  
Not at all impressed, Integra extinguished her cigar in the nearby ashtray.

"What the bloody hell is the meaning of this, O'Connell?" Integra asked, with an angry wave of her hand over the lifeless body.

"You asked last minute for that gang to be brought in...well, here you go."

"You were to bring them in alive. I can't count on you to follow orders at all, can I..."

"That wasn't the order I was given at the start, Integra! It has always been to 'search and destroy'. Don't issue that command, then complain when it happens. You want to ask questions? Go ahead...not that this manky motherfucker's gonna cooperate. The two that could have, well, ask the witless wonder over there - she let them escape. The rest have a bad case of the 'deads'."

"So it would seem, according to the report..."

Integra leaned back with an agitated breath, glancing over to the folder pinned under the corpse. She looked back to Anya, the woman clearly agitated herself. Then, toward the other end of the large office, she spied the young draculina.  
Seras stood gripping her forearms, dejected by the outcome of the mission and Integra's disappointment.  
Anya followed Integra's line of sight and narrowed her eyes at the girl, then returned her look of disapproval to the director.

"What exactly were you thinkin' with her anyway, Integra? Sendin' a rookie out on an assignment like this, with no proper trainin' at all. No wonder she cocked it up!"

"Enough!" Integra's anger flared once more, then immediately fizzled out. "Just...enough." Again she looked to the crestfallen draculina. "Officer Victoria- Seras...you'll start a training regiment with the garrison, I'll notify the commander in the morning. Alucard..."

At the mention of his name, the vampire tilted his head in question, having so far been amused by the heated exchange.

"Take more responsibility for your fledgling, and work with her further," Integra continued.

"As you wish, my master," Alucard replied with a slight bow.

***

Integra took her cigar from its tray and cut a fresh tip to light. She took a few drags to ease her mind. When she had reached a state of calm, she revealed what lead to the mishap.  
They had been working in conjunction with the branch office in the central part of London and their affiliated forces. At first, this gang that Anya and Seras had been up against was labeled as nothing more than a small group of terrorists seeking to make a name for themselves, for the sake of anarchy. What had drawn attention to them in the first place was their use of occult magic mixed with stolen armaments. Knowing that, it would've been simple enough to have one of the terrorists followed to the gang's next targeted location and take them out before their brand of sorcery did any real damage. However, it was new intel to the case that required the gang to be apprehended instead of eliminated. The allegation was that this gang was connected to something much more threatening, a greater faction that'd been conducting similar acts in other metropolitan cities across Europe. Hence the need for questioning.

Anya stood counterpoised in thought. After few moments, finally she spoke. "Seein' as how I used this rat to slake my thirst...whatever he knew, I know as well. I'll make a report of the details as soon as it's convenient."

"You'll do more than that," Integra replied with an exhale of smoke. "You stay put. The rest of you are dismissed for now."

"Wait, no! Hold on a second, what do you mean by that?" Anya exclaimed.

"You'll report to the branch office and give them your intel. After which, you'll be assigned to the palace for the time being."

"WHAT?!"

"You know the routine, O'Connell. A threat to Britain, is a threat to her Majesty. As an agent of Hellsing, this is your duty. For Queen and Country, remember? That is the oath you swore when you joined this organization."

At this Anya's lips curled back in a snarl, "An oath I swore to your ancestor, on his word he would send me home. Now he's dead, and you sit in his place. I've more then done  _ my duty _ , Integra. As the last livin' member of this blasted family, when do you intend on followin' through with your end of the bargain?"

"When it suits me," Intgra replied succinctly. "The rest of you were dismissed, if I recall. I need to speak with O'Connell privately."

Walter had already been standing by the office door, with Seras about to follow. Seras noticed as she left, that at some point her master had already departed. When exactly, she couldn't be sure, not that it mattered at present. With one last look at the pair she was leaving behind, Seras trailed after the aged butler.  
Disgruntled, Anya clicked her fingers, making the corpse she brought disappear without a trace. The weight of the argument bearing heavily, she left the head of the desk and stood at the window, in that instant preferring to gaze upon anything that wasn't the young director.  
Integra took a long drag of her cigar, slowly exhaling with a deep sigh.

"It isn't me, or the Council, requesting this assignment, Anya... The Queen herself is asking for you to act as her guard, as you've done before."

Anya didn't reply.  
Taking another puff of smoke, Integra sat a bit more leisurely in her chair. She looked toward the silent vampire. In years past, Anya was one of the few mysterious characters who'd come to do her father's bidding. Only when Integra grew older did she learn what those tasks entailed and the truth behind her family. But, there was one piece of knowledge he had yet to give her. Sadly though, the time for her to learn it came as he lay in his deathbed, at a time when both Anya and Walter were away. Without their protection, Integra's life was in danger. Knowing this, Arthur Hellsing gave his only heir this last instruction before he died: To find her salvation in the dungeons below the estate. This would cause Alucard's awakening, and the death of Integra's uncle. And since Alucard's release from his sealed prison, Anya had become a prominent thorn in Integra's side. How was it her father could command respect where she could not?

"Does this assignment displease you? I don't see how it could." Integra put out her spent cigar. Then, with a wry smile, she said, "Oh wait, I think I do. You're not pleased with being separated from your favorite 'plaything'..."

With a mocking chuckle, Integra stood then proceeded to step away from her desk. Suddenly a weight collided into her, pressing her body onto the desktop. When her vision cleared, Anya was on top of her, ensnaring a fistful of Integra's long blonde hair. The vampiress inhaled deeply the young director's scent, venturing dangerously close to her neck.  
Anya gently caressed her free hand along Integra's striking visage, her eyes alight with a crimson gleam.

"Maybe it's you I don't want to be separated from... _my master_ ..." Anya's voice was soft, bordering seduction. "It's true I have a great disdain for you English - you bein' particularly irritatin'. And yet, I'm drawn to you. You weren't always such a hardass, if I recall... Perhaps if you got off more, things would be better..." Anya brought her lips toward Integra's cheek, "You know I'm amenable to that."

Everything stopped with the touch of cold metal pressed to Anya's temple. Somehow in the scuffle, Integra had managed to draw her pistol from inside her blazer.

"Get off me."

Anya crawled off the desk as commanded, smirking despite the incident as Integra straightened her suit.

Scowling, Integra gave her final order, "You're to report to the branch office, and then the palace. I don't care when, so long as it's before daybreak. Now get out."

Preparations had been made for the coming day. In the meantime, Integra was going to take a short respite. Walter was at her side after escorting Seras back to her room. For the moment she needed someone who'd speak with her reasonably. As they neared another part of the manor, they paused. There were faint voices coming from somewhere in the adjoining corridor.

"I don't want to go..."

"I know..."

"Come with me...please..."

"You know I can't..."

The conversation steadily went quiet.  
As Integra and Walter cautiously turned the corner, they spied two figures in the shadows a short distance ahead. This was the last thing Integra wanted to see - Anya and Alucard wrapped in an embrace. How long did Integra stand there before she realized she was staring, clenching her fist. Narrowing her eyes, her muted scoff seemed almost reflexive. Upon hearing that sound, her two undead servants broke their kiss and glanced in her direction. Alucard's arrogant smirk, she had expected. Anya, however, with her eyes alight in the dark, her knowing smile as she clung to him - it was like she planned this.

"Oopsies... We better take this elsewhere." Anya hid her grin behind her hand with a half-suppressed laugh. With a firm grip on the No-Life King's frocked coat, she phased backward into the wall behind her, pulling Alucard along, "Perhaps, A stór, we can finish what we started."

Integra turned on her heel as they vanished, gritting her teeth as she marched back the way she had come. Taking the long way around to get to her bedroom would be better than getting any closer, as well as ease her temperament. But instead, she simply headed back to her office. Reports were filed, calls were made. Although, this did little to help her sour mood. Opening a desk drawer, she pulled out the small remote to the nearby security monitors. Dawn approached through the windows as she clicked through the different views of the estate. For the most part, nothing was out of the ordinary. Once she reached the camera views for the front end of the compound, however, she grimaced. Anya was on her way out of the Manor, her trench coat done up to combat the early morning breeze, traversing the long pathway to the front gates. She stopped the instant she reached them, waiting for them to open. How odd it was for a creature like her to be acting so human, when she could so easily leave in the blink of an eye. Anya looked up to one of the security cameras mounted at the gates. Sliding down her sunglasses, she winked, as if she knew who might be watching.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
End Chapter 1  
____________________________________________


	2. Shoot to Thrill

Over the years, it didn't seem to matter the number of times she had come to act as the Queen's guard, there was always a few humans among the security detail who seemed to fumble whenever Anya was around. Of course, these few were part of the regular palace security, and not her Majesty's secret forces. It's likely they weren't aware that the young woman passing them by was a creature of the night. To them, she was simply a strange, unnervingly pale girl who appeared a bit too eager for Halloween; and it wasn't even October. She flashed a fanged grin at the two men stationed deeper into the palace, and before they could stop her from venturing any further, she vanished into nothing as she turned the next corner.

The one guard looked to the second, his shoulders slumping at their failed attempt, "Bugger all...we're gonna catch an earful for this. Damn tourists think they can go anywhere..."

"You sure she was a tourist? I mean, just she disappeared, mate. Like a ghost."

Both men felt a cold shiver, thinking aloud that if that strange girl ever showed up again, they were filing for a transfer.

In the palace's private quarters, a grey-haired woman sat in her parlor, quietly watching the news. There was no mention of the incident at the Earl's Court Metro. The elderly woman sighed. The media was doing well to follow instructions. At the end of the broadcast, she switched off the television, then caught site of an odd reflection in the blackened screen.

"Anya, my dear," the elderly woman said softly, "so good of you to come as requested."

"Lizzy..."

Bypassing the Queen, Anya silently crossed to the other end of the parlor and stood before the wall of windows.

"I take it you're not pleased with this assignment," remarked the Queen.

"It can't be helped," Anya sighed. "I'm bound by your orders above all others, so here I am."

"Try not to be too angry with me, my dear. Believe it or not, I do enjoy our times together."

Anya glanced over her shoulder, "As long as your girls don't rope me into watchin' that blasted Spice Girls movie again, I'll manage."

The elderly monarch chuckled as the vampiress returned her gaze to the view outside.  
The sky was overcast, blocking most of the morning light. It was rare to find herself staring at a scene like this being what she was. It'd been so long, Anya couldn't remember the last time she saw the sky that bright shade of blue. Or rather, she could but didn't want to, with this dreary blanket of clouds threatening to make her nostalgic. Memories were the last thing she needed.  
The Queen called over to her softy, there was a meeting to attend, and she wanted Anya to be close by. As ordered, she sat alone in a darkened sitting area outside the conference hall. These stuffy aristocrats sure loved their antique paintings, she mused to herself, her eyes glossing over the art that covered the walls. One in particular drew her in. Its forest landscape and blooming meadow reminded her of the home she once knew. And the sky, painted that brilliant shade. If she recalled, her eyes used to be that color, and not the red hue they were now.  
A voice shook the vampire from her thoughts. The conference was over, and the Queen was ready to be escorted back to the palace. Just how long had she been staring at that painting? Regardless, she followed after the Queen. For a moment, the old woman wondered what Anya had been thinking about as they traversed the corridors. Instinctively Anya reached for something at her chest, a pendant buried under her top.

The Queen regarded it with a curious eye, "That shape... Is that supposed to be a hammer?"

"Yes, actually, it is. It's Mjölnir." Anya paused mid-step, her fingertips still touching the cool metal. "Years ago, this was handed down to me by my grandfather."

"Mjölnir, though, that's - I thought you were from Ireland."

"I am, but I have ancestry among the Northmen as well." Again Anya looked to her pendant, "It's a pity...there's not many who practice the old ways."

With that, they continued their walk, neither speaking again until they reached the palace. Once there Anya was free to rest, her duties resuming at dusk. Of course, she'd stay somewhat alert as she lay in her coffin bed. She wasn't one to leave things to chance. Keeping the lid of the coffin ajar, she let her gaze wander about the quarters she was given. It was a stately suite, nothing at all like the quarters she had at the manor. Even Integra's bedroom wasn't as nicely furnished as this. Although, really, it didn't matter which was better than the other. Compared to the thatched hut she was raised in, both were a dream. But that thatched hut had been her home, and despite the flaws it had, part of her wished she could be sleeping there instead.  
  
  
"Áine..." a child's voice called, "Áine..."

This was odd. No one had called her by that in ages. The name itself was the same, but the pronunciation was different, how it should've always been spoken in the old tongue.

"Áine."

"Aye, child, what is it?" The dazed woman blinked her eyes open, the blurry shape beside her focusing into that of a young boy. He smiled excitedly, shaking her cot to coax her awake. However, she was not in the mood to be played with. "Ciaran, don't vex me so. Speak now, or leave me be."

The boy's smile grew wider. Áine promised to show him how use a bow today, along with the other children. Groaning, she slapped a hand to her forehead. She had completely forgotten. She crawled out of bed and adjusted her clothes, then wrapped her cloak about her shoulders. Before even fully leaving the hut her younger siblings crowded about her, gleefully dancing about. Learning the bow wasn't as exciting as they were making it out to be. If it was, why weren't they like this with the older boys, or the men for that matter? It was a task in of itself just to get them to pay attention to her instructions. By the time Áine was finally able to get each child to have the proper stance, their mother was already calling over to them. Fetch something for supper, that was her new task. Some rabbits, or fish from the creek. Of course, the children balked at her having to end their lesson early. Had their father been alive, things would've been different, she was quick to say. But he wasn't, so it was her duty as the eldest to help with the family. Grumbling, the children went to find their own means of entertainment. Áine grabbed her gear, securing her quiver and bow to her back and fastening her dagger to her belt. As she went to leave the confines of their little village, Ciaran followed after her.

He hugged her tight, wrapping his arms about her waist, "You'll be back soon, yeah?"

"Aye, I will. Stay out of trouble in the meantime. When I return, we can go back to our lessons."

Ciaran nodded happily, hugged her again, then trotted away. Seeing the look on the boy's face, Áine couldn't help but smile herself.

Trekking the forest for game was proving to be tricky. She had been combing part of the forest for almost an hour and had yet to come across anything. Perhaps it was best to head to the creek instead and try some fishing. Pulling the fur pelt of her cloak a little tighter, Áine braced against a chilly wind. No wonder she was having such rotten luck. As cold as it was, she'd be staying where it was warmer, too.  
A twig snapped somewhere close by.  
Áine readied her bow and trained her arrow. She listened close, waiting for whatever was hiding to make another noise. There in the trees some yards away, something moved. Quickly she fired her shot, hoping to hit the creature. However, the cry of surprise wasn't quite what she had expected. It was a man's voice. Áine drew another arrow and prepared to fire again.

"Show yourself," she called out. "Who's there?"

"Steady now, Áine, it's only me." Slowly a young man stepped out from behind a tree, a fellow villager roughly about the same age. He chuckled lightly, having caught the girl unaware.

"Liam, you complete fool." Áine stamped her foot, her thick boot making a dull thump atop the ground. "You do realize I could have killed you."

"Aye, that much is true. But it was worth it for that look on your face." Liam approached with a smirk and pulled the girl close, pushing aside her bow. "And, how else am I supposed to get you alone? Your mother would likely flay me alive if she knew what we have been up to."

To that, Áine could agree. Liam's roguish nature tended to rub others the wrong way, her mother in particular. But where others found him annoying and shameless, Aine saw him as witty and charming. Welcoming his embrace, she kissed his lips.

"Perhaps if you were to woo me honestly, we wouldn't be in this position," Áine said with a grin as she stashed her bow and arrow.

"Does my taking you in secret bother you that much?" Liam laughed. "Believe me, woman, I'd happily marry you if that is what you want. Just position yourself on my cock one last time before we go announcing ourselves."

"Liam!" Áine exclaimed with a bright flush on her cheeks, trying hard not to laugh herself. She playfully slapped Liam's shoulder and gently nudged him back, "Away with you, lecherous beast. If you wish to marry me, then you had best speak with my mother, and quickly. Already she's been looking to arrange something with the Chief's eldest son, so go now. Hurry!"

"Aye, I will! I will!" Liam laughed aloud as the girl pushed him to leave. He stopped and turned back, looking her in the eye, "I love you."

Holding onto his wrist as he caressed her cheek, Áine's blush deepened, "Don't say it unless you mean it."

"I do," Liam replied, "don't you love me too?"

Áine smiled, "I do. Now go!"

Liam returned her smile and trotted back toward the village, whistling a gleeful tune.  
On her own again, Áine leaned against the tree behind her. Her heart fluttered. What would be waiting for her when she returned home? She imagined her mother's stern face full of excitement, hugging her tight while Áine held a bundle of dead fish in her hands. At least that was what she was hoping for. After her emotions settled, the young woman headed for the nearby creek.  
A sharp snap of a twig echoed from behind.  
Áine stopped in her tracks and made for cover. It could've been Liam, but there was a chance it wasn't. She called out his name and waited for a response. Nothing. She called out a second time, but again all she received was silence. Quickly she armed her weapon once more, her warrior's blood alerted to an unseen danger.  
Another startling snap of a twig. This something was moving closer, and with the sound echoing about the forest, there was no knowing where this threat was coming from.  
Her heart pounded in her ears. Áine pulled her bow string taught, adjusting the grip of the arrow. She was done hiding. Rushing out into the open, the emboldened Celtic lass made her stance, steadily circling in place until she spotted her target. And there he was on her second pass, this smug-faced stranger. Taken aback by his sudden appearance, all she could do was stare, unnerved by the man's devilish grin.

"Hello, my timorous little beastie," he said.

This was the last thing Áine heard, before a heavy blow from behind knocked her out.   
Soon flashes of light danced about the darkness as her eyes gradually fluttered open. Áine found herself dumped on a wooden floor, bound in shackles. Reflexively she reached for the dagger she kept on her belt, but it was gone. Sighing heavily, she then looked to her surroundings. A cabin of some kind, or another hut in the woods? With the lack of light it was difficult to tell, although as her vision adjusted, she could see other figures huddled against the walls. Where was she? Who were these people? And what of the stranger she had confronted? Raising up, she managed a faint hello as she scanned the room.

"Á-Áine?" came a strained whisper.

"Liam? Liam, is that you?"

"Aye, A stór, it's me. Are you hurt?"

"No...not seriously, at least. W-Where are we?"

"I dunno... Some bastards trapped me before I reached the village."

This brought about a startling thought. If she and Liam had been taken like this, what of everyone else in the village? Their families? Áine thought of her mother, her brothers and sister. Where were they? Were they safe at home, or were they here? Áine ventured toward the middle of the dank space, keeping low to the floor.

"Mother? It's Áine...mother? Brigid? Bran?"

A child faintly called out from an adjacent corner, "Sister?"

"Ciaran!"

Hastily Áine moved toward the boy crawling out of the shadows and through the other huddled captives, barely reaching him as the chains anchoring them to the floor pulled tight on their ankles. Teary eyed, the boy collapsed into her arms, shuddering from fright and the cold. Gently stroking his hair, Áine asked again about their family, but the boy didn't know. Their mother had asked him to look for kindling, and before he knew it someone had grabbed him from behind and threw a sack over his head. As Ciaran lay in her lap, Áine took the length of her cloak and draped it over the boy.

Following her lead, Liam came up beside them and did the same for them both, "I promise you, I'll find us a way out of here."

Not a moment later the door flew open, and in strode the stranger from the forest; beside him were two sour-faced brutes, each with a wooden club and dagger fixed to their belts. Smirking, the man set his gaze on the three of them as Liam put himself before Áine and Ciaran.

"How quaint of you," the man laughed, responding in their tongue, "to act so nobly."

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" said Liam, unable to hide his anger.

"You will find out soon enough," the stranger's snide grin grew wider, "and, so kind of you to volunteer. Take them." Immediately the man snapped his fingers, signaling the brutes at his side.

Liam jumped to his feet and prepared to fight them off. He swung his shackled fists, catching one brute in the jaw. The second was ready with his club, although the wily rogue ducked just in time. However, their leader intervened in the scuffle, plunging the blade of his short sword into the young man's chest.

"You heathens ought to know your place..." the stranger scoffed.

Áine and Ciaran screamed as Liam fell into them, the other captives crying out and shrinking back in horror as well. The boy hid behind Áine's back as she held Liam in her arms, tears streaming down her face.

Blood pooling from his wound, Liam heaved a haggard breath as he took one last look of the girl above him, "A-A stór..."

Then the light faded from his eyes, and his body went limp. Her cries choked in her throat. If only she could've moved in time. Even with the chain on her leg and no weapon to speak of, she still could've done something.

"Liam! No, Liam, please! Don't leave me!"

The stranger gestured derisively amid Áine's sobs, "We are wasting time...these two will do fine for now. That Englishman will pay me some fine coin for the girl, more so if she's unspoiled."

"What of the others?" asked one brute as he and his partner wrestled Áine and Ciaran off the floor.

"We'll ransom them later. Now hurry up."

With that order the brutes dragged Áine and Ciaran away, Áine fighting like mad to free herself from their grip. Minutes later the two were shoved into a large tent, then brought before a nicely dressed man hunched over a wooden table. Looking up, he grinned. He spoke softly to the lead captor, although Áine wasn't able to understand. When he eventually looked back to the girl, the grizzled man addressed her differently.

"Tell me, have you a husband? Any children?"

"N-No..." Áine replied, her voice low and hoarse.

"What of the boy there?"

"He is my brother..."

"I see..." The man eyed her up and down, "Have you known a man yet?"

"W-What does that matter?!" Áine's cheeks flushed red.

"It doesn't, really. There's always a Noble looking for laborers. If not, I can make my profits back with the brothels." The man then signaled his three aids, "Get them to my caravan, along with a few more able bodies, I leave within the hour."

"You are not taking us anywhere! Release us now!" Áine reached for her dagger, but again she realized it was gone. She had to do something, though, weapon or no weapon. She couldn't protect her beloved Liam, but at least she could protect Ciaran. Thinking quickly, Áine put herself before the boy, then wrapped the chains of her shackles around her hands just as one of the brutes came for them. She ducked as he went to grab her, then elbowed the man in the gut. Following through with her momentum as the man hunched over in pain, the girl swung her arms and hit him across the side of his head. As the first brute fell in a daze, the second moved in. However, a child's startled cry froze Áine in her tracks. She turned to find Ciaran in the grip of the stranger, the man's blade held close to the child's throat.

"I wouldn't be doing that, if I were you. Not if this boy means anything..." said the stranger.

Taking advantage of her shock, the second brute got a hold of Aine, snagging her by the hair and shoving his dagger under her nose.

The stranger smiled as he tightened his grip on Ciaran, wickedly narrowing his gaze, "Now, cease your struggling, girl, or else this little one-"

"No! Please, no! Leave him be!" Áine shuddered at the blade drawing ever closer to her brother's neck.

In that instant the Englishman spoke, his tone unnervingly calm, "Do as she says for the moment." Moving around the table, he strode toward the stranger and took Ciaran from his grasp. "Seeing as this child is your kin...you would do anything to keep him safe, yes?" As Áine shakingly nodded, he continued, "Then it would be in your favor to comply. Fail to do so, and I may not be able to stop this boy from being gutted like the little lamb that he is."

Before long a small group of unwitting captives were packed into the wagon, Áine and her young brother among them. Cradling the boy against her in the back corner, she looked to the tiny windows above their heads. The sky was dull and gray, a light drizzle of rain tapping against the roof. Then with a few sharp knocks, and a crack of a whip, the caravan steadily began to move. To where, none of them knew.  


***

_  
Thump_ ,  _thump_ ,  _thump_ .

The soft noise resounded in her head. A headache? No, there was someone knocking again.

"Wake up...her majesty is calling for you."

The vampiress slowly peeked her eyes open. She was no longer in the forests of her homeland, just the inside of her coffin. And the voice that roused her, belonged to one of the Queen's servicemen.

Moving the coffin lid aside, she rose up and propped an arm on her knee with a grin, "So, what does dear ol' Lizzy want now?"

Frowning, the serviceman said, "This isn't fun and games, Miss Anya. We have a situation at hand, please come with me."

In that same instant, the direct line to Integra's office lit up. Upon picking up the receiver, the news that came through sent a tremor through her limbs.  
Insurgents were attempting to take down the organization's branch office in the city. Action was already being taken, but reinforcements were needed.  
Immediately Integra called for her best operatives.

"Yes, m'am? What do you require?" asked Walter the moment he entered her office.

"Where is Alucard..."

"On his way, I believe. I can hear Miss Victoria racing up the stairs as we speak."

Nearly in unison the young draculina and her master came into Integra's office, Seras coming in through the door just behind Walter, and Alucard phasing through the wall.

"Sir? What's happening?"

Integra didn't reply at first, instead grabbing the remote for her nearby security monitors. Here they could view the live footage from the branch office security feed. And like she had been told, insurgents much like the ones that had been taken out the previous day were attempting to take the building into their control. As for the actions being taken to stop them, aside from the stationed operatives, one agent in particular seemed to be doing the most damage.  
Seras' eyes widened in awe.  
Anya was leaping over a third level banister, all the while drawing her pistols and shooting the intruders. She twisted her body like an acrobat to better her aim, each shot hitting their mark with deadly accuracy. When the feed switched views, showing a long corridor, a few of the insurgents were running down its length screaming and hollering in terror. What, or more precisely who, they were running from came into frame just a minute or so later, as Anya was seen following after them. From the back, she seemed to be taking her time, moving jovialy through the hall. Almost frolicking. Then she made a quick about-face, appearing to look directly into the security camera as she moved. Her eyes gleamed like a predatory beast, her lips twisted into a vicious grin. She wagged her brows in a knowing manner, as if to entice the viewer to come and join in on her fun.  
This sent a shudder down Seras' spine. It was unnatural to take pleasure in all this carnage. So monstrous!

Seras held her hand to her mouth, aghast at her colleague's actions, "This is awful..."

Integra replied rather frankly, "She is simply doing as ordered. One does not attack the Hellsing Organization, without the organization responding in kind. These men have sealed their fate."

Seras then looked to Alucard as he stood nearby, smiling to himself as if entertained by Anya's prowess and violence.

"Master?" she asked.

"You would do well to pay attention, Police Girl..." Alucard said with a smile. "On paths like ours, to be the creatures that we are...we can't be afraid to kill...especially when our master orders us to do so."

_The creatures that we are?_

This thought only made Seras shiver all the more.

"S-So..we're going there to kill these men?" Seras asked.

Integra quirked a brow, "Alucard and Walter will be going, seeing as how I've been asked to send my other top agents as reinforcements." Integra tapped the ash of her cigar into an ashtray, "You, on the other hand, will stay put. This is out of your league of experience."

"But, Sir-!"

"My word is final."

With a firm wave of her hand, the director commanded the old butler and the No Life King to depart on their new mission. Walter humbly bowed at her orders before exiting Integra's office. Alucard, meanwhile, had already disappeared from sight.  
Seras turned back to the monitor. Intruders were fleeing in fright, some attempting to hide from the prowling Anya. Then it became too much.  
_Creatures that we are... Can't be afraid to kill... What am I? Am I supposed to be like her? I can't. I can't just kill people like this... I'm not a monster! I-I'm me!  
_ She just couldn't bear the thought of gunning others down with such ferocity. Even though these men invaded with the intent to cause chaos, why couldn't they be apprehended and put on trial for their crimes? Why did they have to die? And like this? Hunted like animals. The idea of it went against everything she believed in.  
Integra called for the draculina. Although she was still a bit cold in her manner, the director seemed to have softened her tone at Seras' apparent disgust.

"Seras... Go to your quarters for the time being. Get some rest. Should I require you, I will call."

For a moment, all she could do was stare, feeling a flutter in her chest. Of course, it couldn't be her heart - that stopped beating the night Alucard took her blood. Yet there was something to Integra's gaze, the sound of her voice, that put Seras at ease.

"S-Sir...yes, sir."

Seras stood at attention. Should she salute? Should she bow? Unsure of which was more proper, she simply did both then quietly left as ordered. As she neared the staircase that lead to the lower levels, she caught sight of Walter and Alucard about to leave through the main entrance. The old butler adjusted a pair of black gloves, while Alucard checked the state of his gun. Without so much as a word, Walter pulled the doors open then hitched onto the vampire's back. Instantly they shot off into the air, like a strange bolt of red lightning; in their wake, black shadows secured the doors. Seras shook her head at this peculiar occurrence.  
_We're all just a bunch of weirdos..._  


***

  
As she chuckled to herself, Anya stalked the lengths of every darkened corridor, listening in on the frantic masked insurgents as they whispered into their earpieces.

" _Where the fuck is she?!_ "

" _I've no bloody clue, mate!_ "

" _Last I saw she was skippin' down the hall near the main conference room!_ "

" _Keep your voices down!_ "  
  
" _Who the fuck are these guys?!_ "

" _What? Who?!_ "

" _Some old bloke and and another in a red coat...wait- FUCK, THEY'RE ATTACKING TOO!!_ "

Having heard that last bit of chatter, Anya held back on busting through a blocked door. Alucard was here. Her revolvers still in hand, she lightly jabbed the air, almost childlike in her glee.  _Finally!_  she thought to herself. For the first time in ages, they'd be fighting together; Walter joining in notwithstanding. And knowing her beloved vampire king was near, the vampiress had to reign in her bloodlust even more. As much as she wanted to savor the blood of these cowards, she had to wait, just long enough so that she could share the moment with him. Anya focused her senses as she slowly stepped away, pinpointing Alucard's presence. He was close, coming down from the topmost level, dull pops of gunfire following alongside his pursuit. She moved quicker now, having found him. The insurgents could have their reprieve for the time being, she was off to greet her love.  
Down another hall, then into the main foyer. There was a flash of light coupled with the blast of a gun in the corridor near the highest landing.  
Anya kicked off the ground, leaping from banister to banister in lightning quick flashes until she hit the right level. As she turned the corner, he was just coming out of a busted doorway, emptying a spent magazine and sliding in a new one. The instant he caught her gaze, she could no longer hold back, running into his arms.

"Excited to see me, I see," said Alucard, then accepted her waiting kiss.

"Indeed I am, A stór," Anya replied as she hung off his neck. "The job's heaps less borin' now."

"How many are left, if you don't mind my asking..." Walter approached from the other end of the hall, wires from his gloves glinting in the faint light.

"Two dozen by my count," Anya said, "scattered about the ground and first floor."

"Seems like they tried to take the building from above and below..."

Anya rolled her eyes at Walter's assessment, "Who cares how they laid siege, boyo, let's just kill the manky buggers." Firmly taking Alucard by the hand, she pulled him toward the stairs, "Come, me darlin', there's plenty left for us to enjoy."

Leaving Walter to handle his own, the two vampires set out on their hunt.

In the short calm, the insurgents had filed out their hiding places and were swiftly enacting their exit plan, darting from one cleared spot to another. Freedom was only a few more yards away. In small groups on either side of the main foyer, they inched steadily closer. Then a pair of figures emerged from the shadows, making them freeze in place. The monstrous young woman who had assaulted them before took a turn, standing at the tall man in red's back as they stepped into the central part of the floor. Each man shivered at the sight of them, not knowing if it was better to stay in place or make a run for the nearby doors.  
The girl then spoke to the man in red, softly speaking in a language none of them could understand. At his reply, she grinned, her fangs bared maliciously as she raised her revolvers. Each gun fired a shot, the bright flashes highlighting the hellish red glow of her eyes.  
These dogs could run all they liked, Anya thought. There'd be no escape. Within seconds the foyer became a screaming bloodbath, she and Alucard alternating direction as one covered the other, each dodging enemy fire with unnatural ease. Then strangely enough, the dream she had had leaked into her thoughts as she felt a wave of nostalgia coming from Alucard being at her side. It was cathartic in a way, to put the faces of the men who stole her from her home onto the bodies of the fleeing insurgents. The stranger from the forest, his brutish partners, and the Englishman. But why stop there, when there were so many others deserving of her wrath. The madame she was sold to, and the johns who stole her brother. The lord who bought her to be his mistress, only to pawn her off to some French Noble. Then those soldiers who captured her, throwing her at the feet of the king who sought to conquer everything. She pictured their faces, and fired into every scurrying body, heads and chest exploding. And anyone still breathing despite their wounds, Anya tore into their throats, relishing the sweet taste of her imagined revenge as she watched Alucard continue their massacre.  
Truly the No Life King was a sight, lining his aim to catch his next target with absolute precision. The look on his face with every killing blow, the hem of his coat as it flew up with each twist and turn, and the sound of his haunting laugh. So unyielding and ferocious. Then before Anya knew it, he was standing above her. Sitting on her knees as she drank from a dying man, she looked up to see the No Life King's gaze alight. She knew that stare all too well, one of burning desire. Were her body still living, her heart surely would've skipped a beat. Suddenly Alucard reached for her, lifting the vampiress off the floor and pushing her up against one of the decorative columns that ran along the foyer's perimeter. Although undead, his skin was hot as he pressed his mouth to hers, licking the blood that dripped from her lips. In doing so, his gloved hands roamed her hips and chest then gripped the length of her skirt, pulling it up.

"Let me take you, here and now," he said, his voice nearly growling.

"Mmm...and I'm wantin' you just as badly," Anya purred, speaking between kisses, "But wait... How marvelous would it be to do it in the palace..."

"The palace?"

"I have my own suite, and no one dares bother me without Lizzy's orders. Think of it, A stór... A whole night to ourselves, undisturbed."

"A night undisturbed, you say, fucking you like a king," Alucard said with a snicker, "Not that I haven't done so already. But at the palace...tempting offer."

Anya traced her fingers along the contours of his face, "This job is not yet done, of course. You-know-who will be expectin' a report...but that can be handled easily enough. Then when night comes, I'm yours."

Grinning, Alucard took a final taste of her bloodied lips, "Til tonight, then."

Gently he placed the girl back onto her feet, his fingers slowly caressed along her cheek as he walked away. Passing bullet riddled bodies, Alucard checked to see if any were still alive. Doubtful, however it was still a matter of procedure. Transfixed by him, Anya kept watch, his gun firing at a twitching insurgent laying in a pool of gore. If the man wasn't a corpse moments before, he certainly was now. Then with one last glance toward the vampiress, the No Life King turned and faded into the darkness. 

 

 

  
End Chapter 2  
____________________________________________

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering - because my dear editor asked me the same question... Going by the lore in Hellsing, how is Anya a vampire when she was not a virgin when she was human? Answer: She became a vamp the same way Alucard did. That whole situation will be explained in the next chapter =D
> 
> Also, in this au of mine I've set up a slight difference between vampires like Anya and Seras, with the terms 'vampiress' and 'draculina'. In the Hellsing-verse, a draculina is a virgin woman who was bitten then turned. However, a vampiress, like Anya, is a woman who turned but was not bitten. Does that make sense? Prolly not =/ But just roll with it =) It's like how all thumbs are fingers but not all fingers are thumbs. Both are technically vampiresses because they're female vamps, but Anya isn't a draculina like Seras because Anya was never bitten. Does it make sense now?
> 
> Anyway! Fingers crossed this chapter was enjoyable ^__^


	3. Search and Destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past is revealed as conflict rises, and enemies lurk in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna get dark, violent, and bloody.
> 
> If I miss anything in the tags, let me know.
> 
>  
> 
> A stór - my darling/my treasure

Time flowed differently for immortals, days seemingly passing like minutes. Sometimes, it passed painfully slow. What exactly did vampires do when they were bored and lonely? For one such vampire, it meant finding ways to bend her master's command and leave the mansion. Arthur Hellsing didn't much care for Anya's peculiar interests, particularly the ones that involved loud, distasteful music. Traipsing up and down the halls with ripped jeans and tattered rock band tee shirts, she was sure to be a negative influence on his newly born daughter. However, Integra grew to be much more like her father than Arthur realized, sharing in his dislike. But unlike her father, the young Integra was more lenient. As long as she didn't play that dreadful noise in her presence, Anya could wear what she wanted. Because, as reluctant as she was at the time, Anya at least gave Integra the companionship she needed; since she and Walter were the closest Integra had to friends.  
Although, drastic events would change that dynamic.

Arthur was on his deathbed, supposedly unfit to be giving commands according to his brother, Richard.  

"I'd like to see this for myself, move aside human," Anya said in huff as she reached to pull the man away from Arthur's bedroom door.

"How dare you," Richard growled, "You are a servant of the Hellsing family, and are to do as your masters command."

"You are not my master...and never will be. Move aside." Anya reached into her leather jacket, with every intention of pulling out her revolvers.

"No, wait, stop!" Richard backed away, braced against the door. "Arthur can't be seen by anyone at the moment, I swear. Here, this was to be given to you." He pulled an envelope from his suit pocket and handed it over, "Complete this task. Hopefully once you and Walter return, Arthur may be well enough to see you."

Anya was surprised. Walter was gone? But to where and why, was information Richard was quick to say wasn't her business to know. Sighing heavily, she tore open the envelope to read her master's alleged order.  
_ Beastly creature stalking the moors up North, attacking at random - destroy, then return.  
_ The vampiress wasn't too sure, but as it was in her master's handwriting she stuffed the note and the rest of the envelope's contents in her pocket and turned away. It was only when she had reached her destination that Anya realized that she'd been tricked. She raced back to the Hellsing mansion, hoping that she wouldn't be too late. But alas, upon her return she found the damage had been done. Arthur had succumbed to his illness, but Richard and Integra were nowhere to be seen. Death permeated the mansion as Anya called out for her young mistress, then she spotted small drops of blood dotting the floor, trailing from deeper in the mansion. This was Integra's blood. In a mad dash, she followed the trail to Arthur's old office. 

"Integra! Are you-?!" Anya stopped cold the instant she barreled into the room.

The young girl was seated at the desk, her arm wrapped in a bloody bandage. And by her side, stood a familiar, haunting figure.

What he must be thinking, seeing her for the first time in decades, and dressed so oddly in distressed jeans and a tattered Billy Idol tank under her jacket; a dramatic switch from the more feminine clothes she used to wear.  
  
Anya was slack-jawed as she collapsed to her knees, her hands clasped to her trembling lips. "Are...are you alright...Integra..." she managed to say.  
  
"I'm fine. My uncle, though...not so much," Integra replied. Then the girl gestured to the man wrapped in strange bondings. "He saved me. This is-"

"A-Alucard..." Anya said as her eyes welled up.

In the blink of an eye Alucard stood before the fallen vampiress. Kneeling, he took her hand and smiled through the long tresses that hung about his gaunt features. "Good evening...A stór..."

Memories like this, only increased her bitterness. Even in her dreams, she couldn't escape. Everything she'd repressed kept bubbling to the surface. Of course, the sex wasn't helping either. As sincere as he could be in their torrid nightly affairs, at times Alucard's presence was just a painful reminder.

Tension crept into her muscles as the bed creaked and shifted. Anya peeked open her eyes at the sound of boots stepping away, and the rustling of thick curtains. Day was coming, one end of the suite softly illuminated through the small gap in the drapes by the steadily encroaching light. The bed shifted again as Alucard reclaimed his spot beside her. Anya propped herself up on her forearm, realizing that he had covered her with his coat while she slept. How sentimental, and so unlike him. Did he bump his head during their little escapade? She could ask, however he was more likely to respond with a sarcastic chuckle than a true answer. Taking that slight chance, the vampiress sat up and pulled the coat around her shoulders.

"What's this then, hm?" she asked. "Feelin' a bit chivalrous today?"

"Would you prefer to be bare when housekeeping comes to clean?"

"I don't care, and neither would you."

And there it was, that typical chuckle of his. Alucard lay onto the bed, partially reclined on one arm as he placed the other atop a bent knee. His red eyes closed with his laugh, his mouth taking on a chesire grin.

Why did he have to be so mocking...

Wasn't it enough that Integra had come to prefer his company over hers. And the police girl, that Seras Victoria. Why did he have to go and sire a new fledgling.

All Anya could think of, was that she was being replaced. Again.

"You're beautiful when you're angry," Alucard said with a shake of his head, noting her sullen look.

"Don't bullshit me," Anya snapped back.

"Honestly, if you're upset about your clothes, woman, you know how to shift your form..."

Anya narrowed her eyes, "Fine."

Focusing, she let herself turn to shadow and mist. A moment later, Anya solidified her form, her disheveled hair flowing past her hips. And underneath the borrowed red coat, she wore a plain medieval gown. This was how she looked the day she died.

Once he saw this, Alucard's smile fell away.

"Anya...that's not fair," he said. "Why are you being like this?"

"Because I want you to know how much it hurts..."  
  
  
There was no telling how long she'd been confined in this encampment, unable to see the outside in what felt like ages. Only when a soldier happened to enter the dimly lit tent to grab a prisoner for execution, did the girl catch a glimpse, but the world outside was always so cloudy and gray. Starving and cold, Áine wondered if she was fated to die like this, a victim of such cruel captors. Would she be buried with these chains shackled to her limbs, and no peace given to her spirit? As she had done since the day she had been first taken, Áine clasped her pendant and bowed her head, praying the gods would forgive her.  
There came a ruckus outside, snide laughter and jeers floating about the scores of men.  
Suddenly a figure was pushed into the tent, soldiers following close behind. They grabbed onto what appeared to be a captured nobleman and dragged him further in, securing the shackles of his legs to another tent pole some feet away. Amid their laughter, the soldiers seemed to say something that angered the man. This only made them laugh harder as he tried to lash out. Once they grew tired of this, the soldiers left.  
What they had said, Áine couldn't tell.  
For a moment she and the few remaining prisoners looked to their newest member, until he said something that must've been rather harsh, as the others quickly turned away. But like the soldiers, Áine couldn't understand the man at all. Keeping her eyes on him, the girl tilted her head. Although unnerved by his outburst, she was curious. Who was this nobleman? Again he shouted as he caught her staring, swinging his bound hands as if to shoo her away. Áine shrunk back a bit, then shrugged her shoulders. The man then tilted his head as well, puzzled by her, addressing her with what sounded like a question. All she could do was look to him in confusion. The man thought for a moment then addressed her again, speaking in another tongue, doing so over and over until finally something worked.

"Do you understand me now?" the man asked once more.

"Aye. A little, at least," Áine replied. "English would have been better...but, I know enough French to get by. The lord whom I served did not want his heathen servant to be ignorant of his commands. We...we were traveling when our carriages were attacked..."

"You know enough? So you say. I am little impressed, actually," the man chuckled softly. "For an ignorant heathen, you are quite well spoken."

"I suppose I must thank my teacher, and his belt, for instilling proper pronunciation," Áine mimicked a whipping motion, complete with sound effect. At this the man chuckled again, the girl joining in with a small blushing smile. 

The nobleman regarded Áine for a time, amused by this tattered stranger. With a wry grin he asked, "So, my little foreigner...what do you make of the Sultan, and his army?"

Áine's young countenance soured, "I would piss in his mead if I could, then slit his men's throats as they slept." Then stifling a yawn, she continued, "What would you do?"

"The same..." The man's grin widened as Áine laughed. Then he noted her growing fatigue. "You look weary, child. Why not sleep."

"I am not a child! I am in my twenty first year," Áine snapped, smacking the side of her fist onto her leg. Quickly she realized her mistake and calmed herself. Then with another yawn, she said, "As it is, I am too cold and hungry to sleep. But...I think I will lay down, my head does ache some."

Áine made herself comfortable on her patch of dirt and grass, resting her head on her arms. Within seconds she was sound asleep, her breaths like faint purrs.  
How pitiful, the man must've thought as he watched her sleep. Although, this wily peasant girl was brave enough to stand up for herself. For her wit, she earned some of his respect. He moved a little closer and took off his cloak, draping it over the girl as she slept.  
Starting the very next day, the nobleman would be taken, then later returned bruised and bloody. This happened daily for nearly a week, during which the number of the prisoners dwindled, until it was only he and Áine that remained. After the latest course of punishment, the nobleman sat slumped against the tent pole, in nothing more than his tattered trousers, his wounds still seeping.  
Áine gazed at him crestfallen, then quietly approached. Taking the linen coif from her head, she went to wipe away the blood.

The man flinched and pushed her aside, "Away with you, girl. I care not for your pity."

Silently Áine scrunched her face in anger, then threw her coif at him, as if to tell him to tend to his wounds himself. She returned to her place to sit and avoided him all together, her black hair coming undone in the process and spilling down her back. There was no need for him to be so short with her. Regardless of station, nobleman or peasant, they were in the same captive state, and she was only trying to help.  
Taking the girl's bloodied coif, the nobleman stared at his wounds, then sighed. There was no point to it anymore, as they were likely to die come morning. He would be lead to the chopping block, and later the girl once the soldiers had their way.  
Áine was taken aback by his speech, and the grim, hopeless look to his countenance. They had truly broken him, body and spirit.

"Do not weep for me," the nobleman sighed as Áine began to softly cry. When she tried to protest, he raised his hand to quiet her. "No... You have shown me kindness - for that, you have my thanks. But, God has turned his back on me, and I must accept my fate."

"But...my Gods could still save us," Áine replied, "I pray to them still."

"Then pray for yourself. My faith is done, and I know where my soul is headed." The nobleman sat back against the cold wood. For a time he stared at the cloth ceiling of their prison tent, then looked back to the weeping girl. "Come, you may sit with me if you like."

Taking his offer, Áine brought herself as close as she could. She flinched just a little as the man clasped his hand to her cheek and wiped away her tears.

"I now realize," the man said, "that we have sat here together for days, and I have yet to learn your name."

"My name? M-My name is...my name is Áine," she said, stumbling through her reply. "What is yours?"

The nobleman went to speak, but paused for a moment. As it was, the girl probably didn't even know the significance of his name and his titles to begin with, so what was the use. Somewhat amused by her quizzical stare, he gently patted her head, "Vlad."

Dawn inevitably came, the twilight color of the sky changing into a strange reddish haze. The unlikely pair had stayed close throughout the night, although Áine eventually fell asleep without realizing, having been allowed to rest her head on the nobleman's leg. Vlad, on the other hand, had forgone sleep. He kept watch over the girl, absentmindedly stroking her hair as she slept, his eyes shifting periodically from her to the head of the tent. He could hear the stirrings outside, the beat of boots on the ground, and the sharpening of metal. Any minute, and soldiers would come to drag him out. There came a loud chop in the distance. The executioner must be testing his ax. Áine stirred awake at the noise. Startled, she looked to him as he heaved a heavy breath, his long dark hair shrouding his face.  
  
"Anytime now..."

"No!" Áine shook her head, clasping his hand in hers. "They mustn't. I dreamt it...I saw that we would be free. It is a sign! My Gods would not lie."

"Do not speak to me of this nonsense," Vlad said as Áine's eyes were beginning to swell. "No God, mine or yours, will belay my death. I say again, do not weep for me... Instead, allow me one last kindness..."

Áine grit her teeth, trying desperately to hold back her tears, "Anything."

Reaching out, Vlad clasped a hand to her cheek and pulled her close. Áine's heart skipped as their lips met, then fluttered with the sincerity in his touch, his stubble and mustache tickling her skin. It was over in an instant, the flaps of the tent opening just as Vlad pulled away. A small group of soldiers came in, vicious sneers peering from under their helmets. Immediately they approached, one yanking Vlad by the hair and throwing him onto the ground. The others produced a stock collar, locking it about his neck and wrists. He didn't even bother to resist their actions.  
Áine watched, frozen in place. What should she do? What could she do? Surely, these men would beat her for interfering, possibly even kill her. But this nobleman - he was her friend. Vlad was her friend, it didn't matter that she had only known him a few days. Like the proud warrior she used to be, if she was to die, then she'd die on her feet, rather than cower in the face of danger. Mustering what strength she had left, Áine hurled herself into the closest soldier, then another, shouting for them to stop and let the nobleman go. In turn she was snatched forcefully by the collar of her dress, backhanded across the face, and thrown to the ground. The soldier who'd done so then sent his boot flying into her stomach and chest, shouting at her with words she couldn't comprehend. Áine reeled from the blows, gasping for air as she clutched her aching body. What more could be done as she lay there unable to move, barely able to speak, as the soldiers began to push Vlad from the tent. She faintly called for him still, though his returned gaze was his silent farewell.  
It was over.  
Slowly Vlad was marched, past the scores of soldiers who mocked him and delighted in his pain. He could see it, up ahead beyond the throngs of soldiers, the scaffold and chopping block colored by the growing dawn. For all his efforts, God still turned a blind eye, leaving his loyal servant to die. What was it all for then, for this to be the final outcome? He fought for the glory and honor of his homeland, to protect God's kingdom. Yet, this was his reward? Indeed he had been forsaken, to his mind that could be the only answer. So be it, then. God turned his back him, so he in turn would do the same. Forced onto his knees, his neck made ready as the executioner raised his ax, Vlad eyed the puddle of blood saturating the platform. This would be his final drink, a lasting insult to his maker as he lapped the dark ichor. Then it all went black.  
Áine clutched her chest, her heart aching as that terrible sound echoed in her ears, the faint thump of metal against wood. Then, through the open flaps of the tent, there came the cold knot in her guts as the distant figure of the executioner raised what could only have been the nobleman's head. What was going to happen, now that she was the only prisoner left. It was simple - a lone young woman in a sea of men, even a fool could figure that out. Vlad had said so himself. Sooner or later, they would come, and when they did she'd be ready. Áine held tight to the dagger in her grasp, one she had stolen off one of the soldiers in the previous scuffle.  
_I will not die cowering like a dog, come what may. Open the gates for me, father...the wolf will bear her teeth before the end._  
And what would be Áine's end, when it finally came? Not the ax, a beheading was too good for one of low birth. Surely she'd find herself dragged to the nearest heavy branch, and strung up like a macabre ornament. Or worse, tortured and flayed alive like the unlucky souls she saw after being captured. All that cruelty - and  her  people were considered barbaric? No. She'd rather die by her own hand, but not before killing a few of those bastards first.  
Morning came and went, then the afternoon. Since Vlad's death, no-one had yet to enter the prison tent again. What were they waiting for? Were they going to execute her, or simply let her continue to wither from starvation? Áine looked to her hands, then the rest of her body. She had to be slowly dying at this point, her limbs so thin and frail.  
The front of the tent rustled, and in walked three eager soldiers, each grinning deviously as the sky darkened behind them.  
Áine braced for action, the stolen dagger brandished in defense, steeling herself for the task at hand. The men laughed, however, at her act of defiance, then inched steadily closer. Suddenly there came a cacophony of screams. The three looked at each other confused. Speaking quickly, two of them gestured leaving, while the third made a dismissive wave. It seemed this fellow was keen to stay behind while the others investigated the commotion outside, to busy himself with their nefarious wants. Once on his own he looked to the dagger wielding peasant girl, and licked his bearded lips. Keeping the dagger pointed, Áine got to her feet. The soldier reached out, chuckling aloud. Without warning his voice choked in his throat, his eyes going wide. Both he and the girl looked to the sharpened instrument protruding from his chest. Then he was raised off the ground, slipping slowly along the long shaft of a pole. A shadowed figure held the soldier aloft, their eyes glowing red as they stared. A moment later the soldier was thrown to the ground, his last breath rattling in his lungs. The dark stranger came closer, that burning gaze fixed on Áine.

"My little foreigner...you still live. Did they harm you?"

That voice. Could it be? No, this wasn't possible. He was dead, she saw it. How could it be him? 

"Answer me..."

Áine forced herself to speak, her dagger shaking in her bony hands, "Who are you?!"

The lanterns around them burst to life, lighting the once darkened tent. She could see clearly now the mysterious stranger, his eyes piercing with their crimson hue. The gods must've heard her prayers. It was him. Her dear nobleman lived, standing boldly in gleaming armor. Áine felt in her heart the sudden urge to leap - to laugh, to cry, at this miracle. But his presence was more than she could bear. All she could do was gently smile as her knees grew weak, hushly calling his name as she fainted.  
His expression unchanged, Vlad took the unconscious Áine into his arms and carried her from the tent. Perhaps it was best the girl was not awake at the moment, as Vlad waded through a veritable sea of corpses, their bodies mangled and drained of their vital essence.  
Soon they were past the bloody scene, and into the empty countryside, the night eerily still and quiet. Just up ahead, a sparse village came into view, a couple peasant women tending the exterior of their homes and gardens. Over the quiet came the rumblings of Áine's empty stomach. Vlad paused for a moment, his approach catching the two women off guard. The instant he caught their gaze, they stood stock still, their eyes glazing over. Gather food and supplies, as much as their carts could carry, then they were to follow. And follow they did, telling no-one of their commands. Steadily they trekked the country roads, all the way to the abandoned castle in the mountains. As dawn was about to break when they entered, Vlad left Áine to the women to care for, heading for quarters unknown.

"Feed her, bathe and dress her - tend to her every need," he said over his shoulder. "Until nightfall, I am not to be disturbed."  
 

***

  
And his new servants did as instructed to the letter. However, it wasn't as easy a task as one would think. Her hair was brittle, eyes sunken, and under Áine's tattered dress, her sallow skin was peppered with patchy red dots. It would take more than just a bath and a day's worth of food and water to put her right. Yet the women endeavored as best they could. No doubt they'd be severely punished, or worse, if the girl died on their watch. As one made a large wooden tub ready for bathing, the other roused Áine, feeding her from the stock of bread and vegetables they had brought.  
Through out the day the two peasant women regulated Áine's meals and kept her company. That is, until the sun went down and their master called on them, finding the girl washed and dressed in a clean linen nightgown, and resting comfortably in one of the many bedchambers.

"How is she?" Vlad asked, noting Áine's raspy breath and thready pulse as he gripped her wrist.

"I can not say with certainty, sire," answered the woman sitting by Áine's bedside. "She was at Death's door when you brought her here. There is only so much we can do. If she does not improve, she may need a doctor...or a priest."

Vlad scoffed, "A priest..."

"Sire...if God calls for her, how is she to enter His kingdom without her last rites?"

Vlad took a look at the dozing girl, then turned on his heel, scoffing again as he left. He knew nothing of God's kingdom. The only kingdom worth his attention was the one on Earth, and if his little foreigner needed more aid, then that was what she was going to get. Silently he stepped out into the cold night and ventured down the mountain, turning into mist as he crept into the neighboring villages.  
When next Áine woke, she felt strong enough to leave her bed. Where was she again? What was this place? And where was Vlad? Quietly, she left her chambers and wandered the corridors. She remembered there being the two women caring for her, but as she came to the great hall, she realized there were many more milling about, working to make what seemed like a castle clean and more livable. How long had she been asleep? Everything was more extravagant than she was used to, regal even; nothing like the abode of her former master.  
Áine then spotted one of the women she knew, the woman suddenly shocked and quickly approaching after setting down her basket of folded cloth. She spoke as if she were concerned, grabbing a long sheet of patterned fabric from her bundle and draping it about Áine like a robe. She couldn't understand a word, but from the woman's actions alone, Áine gathered that her wandering about in her bedclothes must've been considered indecent. Judging by the faces of everyone else, that had to be it. In the next instant someone spoke loudly. Immediately everyone hastily finished what they were doing then moved to stand along the walls, their heads bowed. Áine could only stand still where she was, not knowing what else to do. Looking to the high windows, she could see the sky grow dark, then from the shadows of the adjacent corridor he emerged. Armor gone, Vlad had returned to the appearance of the nobleman she had first met, standing stoically despite her stares. Just who was he, to be so intimidating to the people around him?  
  
"Awake I see, " Vlad said as he came closer, then softly guided her by the shoulder, "Come, back to your chambers."

Once they returned to Áine's room, Vlad gently picked up the frail girl and placed her back into her bed. Curiously, she looked at him as he sat in the empty bedside chair. "Why is everyone fearful of you? I don't understand... I know you are Nobility but...who are you for them to be frightened so?"

Vlad met her questioning gaze. Indeed the girl was ignorant of his identity. He smiled wryly, "Nobility? My child, I-"

"I am not a child!" Áine could scarcely raise her voice, each word cracking as she spoke.

"And I am not mere Nobility," Vlad replied, his tone like steel as he rose from his seat to make his impression clear. "I am Vlad Dracula, of the houses Draculesti and Basarab, Voivode of Wallachia."

For a moment Áine could only stare, her brow furrowed in confusion. " _Voivode_? What is that?"

Vlad then looked confused himself, taken aback by that response. "It...I...It means I am the prince of Wallachia, and commander of its armies. Who are  _you_ to question me,  _child_?"

Climbing out of the bed, Áine stood boldly before the prince, "I am Áine, daughter of Rónán of the clan Conaill - a  _great_ warrior and chieftain."

"I see... And, where is your father now?"

"W-With our ancestors...t-taken in battle defending our home." Áine paused, scratching the back of her neck. "My mother had intentions to betroth me to the new chieftain's son - before strangers stole me away."

For a time Vlad regarded her in silence. Truthfully, he didn't need to hear the rest, he could imagine well enough the hell she might've been through prior to their meeting.

"Daughter of a chieftain?" he said, taking the girl's hand in his. "Then,  _my lady_ , I can say with great assurance...you have nothing to fear from me."

Confident in this new understanding, Áine smiled. Perhaps, for once, she could have some peace. In the coming weeks her health steadily improved, regaining the weight and strength she'd lost.  
The red-eyed prince made a point to visit her chambers, sometimes remaining at her side even as she slept. This girl had piqued his interest with her naivete, candor, and her tales of her island home. With some polish and education, there was a possibility she could be so much more than just a mere peasant maid. The first thought to come to mind was teaching her a bit of his mother tongue, lest she continue to be ignorant of what was said to and around her. Within a few months Áine could pick up on what the servants were saying when they thought she couldn't understand, and she didn't like it at all.  
  
"Look at that little wisp of a savage running around..."

"Uncouth child trailing after our sire like a lost pet. To look after her the way he does, he must be tired of it. And no wonder, he barely eats. I go to bring him his meals, and he turns me away! That heathen has him bewitched somehow, I know it."

"Once he's had his way, she'll be sent off...and good riddance..." 

The three maids prepping that evening's meal each had a laugh, then suddenly went quiet the instant Áine walked into the castle's kitchen. They then made their tones more cheery as they bowed their heads in greeting.  
Áine replied with a scowl, giving the impression of an angry princess as she stood in her elegant white dress.

"Shall I take our sire his food then?" she said, picking up the reserved tray of a roasted lamb dinner. "Perhaps he'll eat after he's had me...I could use a good fucking."

As the three women gasped, she turned on her heel and left, her long hair fluttering behind her.  
Through the candle lit corridors, and past her own chambers, Áine moved into the next wing and entered Vlad's. The brooding prince sat in nearly complete darkness, propped on the edge of his table, his eyes half closed in thought. Setting down the tray of food, Áine lit another set of candelabras, though other parts of the large room were still cast in shadow.  
Craning her head from side to side as she stood before him, she looked Vlad over.

"Will you ever eat?" Áine asked with a heavy sigh. "I have yet to see you put anything in your mouth."

"This, is not what I hunger for," Vlad replied, gesturing to the meal she brought.

Áine held his gaze for a moment. Slowly, she took a seat on his lap and grasped his left hand, clutching it to her chest, "Do you...hunger for something else?"

"What are you playing at?"

Áine smirked and shook her head, "Do you want to fuck me or no?"

Vlad chuckled, gently squeezing her breast. Without another word he pulled her close and took her lips, her soft skin smelling of honey as he breathed in her scent. They lingered here for a time, until Áine pulled away, giggling as she rubbed her nose.

"Your mustache is a fiend, A stór."

Vlad raised a brow, "A stór?"

"It means 'my treasure', " Áine replied. "You have taught me some of your language, now you know a little of mine."

Vlad caressed her cheek, brushing back her tresses. He had grown so fond of his little foreigner. Really, she was all he had. If he truly wanted to, he could make her his. Who would dare to tell him no, that he couldn't have this chieftain's daughter as his bride? Áine stood as he rose from his chair, the prince then taking her hand.

"If you will have me, I am yours..."

Smiling, Áine undid the ribbon that held up part of her hair, wrapping it about their clasped hands. "If you will have  _me_ , I am yours as well...forever."

"Forever...A stór." Taking Áine into his arms, Vlad gently placed a kiss on her forehead, then carried her to his bed.

Every day for weeks, from dusk til dawn they remained together, hiding from the sun's light under the thick covers. Vlad kept Áine close until it was time for him to retreat to his darkened keep, stroking her hair as she slept. Soon, he noticed her growing stomach.  
Áine couldn't believe it herself. They strolled the overgrown castle grounds one clear night, then stopped for a moment as she went to feel the gentle thumps of their child. Her eyes became wistful as Vlad held his hand to her belly. Was she sad? No, quite the opposite. Because finally, here was a child she could keep, after the brothel madame forced her to lose one child in the past.

" _A beastly girl like you can not possibly raise a child_... That is what she said to me," Áine hugged herself to her prince. "She took my little girl and sent her away. I don't know if she is alive or dead...and it breaks my heart to think of her." Angling her head on his chest, she wiped the tears from her face, "I am not beastly. I am not a savage, or a barbarian, but, that is all I hear them say."

"Who says these things to you?" Vlad asked, his gaze alight with anger.

"Those bastards in the castle. They mock me at every turn, hoping you will soon tire of me and throw me out."

"Never," Vlad wrapped his arms about Áine's shoulders, "I told you forever, and I stand by my word. Worry not, A stór...I will see to it, that they regret their deeds."

True to form, he did just that. As his bride lay sleeping the next evening, Vlad began his deadly rampage, seeking out any of his servants that held traitorous thoughts in their minds. By the end, only a few were left alive, cowering as they stared at his bloody fangs. His blazing red eyes bore into them, imprinting his one and only warning.  Speak ill of my bride again, and you will join your comrades in Hell.  
However, killing these servants would prove to be their downfall.  
Wanting some freedom from the confines of the castle, Áine stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and wandered the paths through the tall grass, trekking beyond the castle grounds she was used to. Happily, she frolicked in a patch of wild flowers, gathering an armful to make flower crowns for herself and her beloved. What would they name their child? No doubt Vlad would want to pass on his name if he were to have a son. What if they were blessed with a girl, though? Would he want a daughter with his own family name? His mother's? Or maybe Áine's mother? She was brimming with excitement at the thought. Then the excitement fled with the sudden pain in her gut. Just as the sun was beginning its slow descent, she collapsed, her teeth grit with every jolt and stab. Something was wrong, it was not yet time for the baby's birth, and she was too wracked with pain to make her way back.  
Meanwhile, deep in the darkest part of his castle, Vlad woke with a start. There was trouble. Immediately he went to Áine's chambers. But where was she? And neither could he find her anywhere else. The last of his servants had been searching for her as well, as they had come to bring her a meal, only to find that she had disappeared. Keeping to the shadows of the castle, Vlad watched as the servants searched the grounds outside. The sun was still in the sky, and steadily burning his skin. What would happen if he were to venture out this instant? He had to be sure of Áine's whereabouts first. He trained his hearing, drowning out the shouts of the others. On the wind came the smell of blood, and in the distance he could hear her voice. Without another thought, he leapt into action, moving with ungodly speed as he traced that ominous scent. Her screams became louder the closer he came, then at last he found her. But, the horror before him brought Vlad to his knees. Áine lay in a pool of blood, gasping for breath as Vlad went to hold her.  
  
"A stór!" he called out, cradling her in his arms. "What has happened? Are you hurt?"

With the bottom part of her dress stained red, Vlad deduced Áine had gone into labor, and upon that realization he looked for the child she birthed. The second he raised the hem of her dress, his heart sank. This was not how it was supposed to be. Their child, it didn't even look human as it lay lifeless.

"My Vlad... A stór, where are you?" Áine said, her voice strained.

"I am here...you are safe now."

"I can not see... A stór, I...I am so cold..." Áine shivered in Vlad's embrace, "Where...where is our child? Did we have a son? Or-or a daughter... Tell me...is our child well?"

Clutching her hand, Vlad clenched his teeth. He couldn't tell with the first glance, and he couldn't bring himself to do it again. What should he say as she was dying in his arms?

"She...She is beautiful...like her mother."

"Liar," Áine replied with a weak laugh, "I know I'm not pretty."

"A stór, don't...don't leave me," Vlad said softly, "I can not bear forever without you."

Áine could feel herself slipping. She wasn't ready yet, there was still so much to do. She wanted to see her home again, run through those emerald fields with her prince by her side, and show her mother their little one. Why would the Gods take her now? She'd give anything to stay a while longer. Weirdly, in that instant, thin trails of blood began to snake up her body, inching closer and closer to her panting lips.

"Stay with me," Vlad said upon seeing the blood drip into Áine's mouth, "Take back what is yours, my love. Take it, and I swear, I will bring you home...we can see your island, together."

As the light began to fade from her eyes, Áine smiled, choking on her last breath and the ichor that coated her throat, "Aye...I would like that...very much."  
  
  
Much like Vlad, her resurrection came the next night. As thunder clapped in the distance she entered the castle, barefoot and disheveled from her burial, coming into the great hall still wearing her bloodied dress. The color of her eyes had changed, no longer that bright azure that Vlad held dear, but the same hellish crimson as his. The girl he knew and loved, was she still there, inside this new creature? She twitched a little, the faintest shakes of her head and tremors through her limbs, like a crazed wildcat staring blankly at nothing. Her muscles tensed at Vlad's approach, her panting breath growing heavier as he gripped her shoulder.  
Áine's lips curled back slightly, revealing her newly formed fangs to this other predator as she reached out and grabbed a fistful of his cloak. But wait, this one was familiar. Yes, she knew this man, remembering his scent and the feel of his presence. The desire to attack vanished and she held herself to him, burrowing into her beloved's chest.

A trembling maid slowly came close, "Would the young mistress care for some food, or drink? Or warm herself by the fi-AHHHH!!"

The maid screamed as Áine lunged, tackling the older woman to the floor. Though the maid tried to get away, Áine pinned her down, going for her throat and tearing through her flesh. Vlad stood by as she fed, seemingly unmoved by the girl's frenzied first meal. But, the drained woman was not enough. Áine switched her focus to the two figures huddled nearby, another maid and a cook, both terrified of their master's crazed bride. They would not escape her bloodlust. Within the hour of her arrival, Áine had torn through the castle and slaughtered the last of the servants. Her hunger satiated, she returned to her beloved in the great hall, Vlad standing firm by the grand fireplace.  
  
Tenderly he held his hands to her cheeks then wrapped her in his embrace, his fingers tangled in her hair, "You have returned to me...my Áine."

"Take me," Áine said, her once sweet voice a subtle growl as she began to pull on his clothes. "Take me now, A stór...I want you inside me."  

Vlad pulled her to the floor, tearing Áine's dress from her body as she straddled his hips. Before the roaring fire they ravaged each other, sharing in their blood, their pleasured cries echoing in the night.  
However, the actions taken began to weigh heavily on the prince's mind as the days went by. And for Áine, it was the same once her initial crazed state subsided. What was she now, no longer able to bask in the sun's warmth, and with this insatiable hunger lingering about her like a second skin? This new strength and speed, it was frightening. And her beloved Vlad, he was seeing her less and less, spending most nights shut away in his chambers. She couldn't understand at all, what had she done wrong? With no other recourse but to fend for herself, she crept out into the night alone.  
Years went by, and still it remained the same. Vlad, it seemed, had turned his back on her. Not only that, he began to bring newcomers to the castle. A fresh young woman, then soon another, and then another. These three women, his fledglings, his new 'brides'. How they lavished affection on him, and loathed Áine in turn. Eventually she retreated from her chambers, to more reclusive quarters, away from them and their sneers and laughter.  
How long had it been since that day? When was the last time her prince looked at her with love in his eyes? The loneliness, had already begun to feel unbearable. But, every attempt she made to end it failed. No matter what she tried, she couldn't die. The sun, though. She had yet to try that. No. She shouldn't. She had wished for another chance to live, to return home. Perhaps, if she stayed a while longer, her prince would keep his promise.  
On the brink of another new century, the castle saw the arrival of a new guest. A young man this time, a solicitor from England. What was his purpose, though, this Jonathan Harker? Watching from the shadows, Áine listened in on their discussions. There was some interest there, the young man was indeed handsome and well spoken. Yet the moment Vlad learned of Harker's fiancée, the interest deepened. New properties? Leaving? When did this start? Would he bring her along, to take her back to her island? Alas, no. He left without even saying a word to her.  
Again, she was left to fester in isolation and torment.  
And there was no word from him either after he left for his travels, nothing. Nothing more than to wait until his return, and most likely with a new favorite to add to his company. What a fool she had been, Áine thought. Death, would've been so much kinder.  
Although, Death may not have been far off. After several months, the castle began to stir to life again. The other three brides were riled up, looking out into the distance.  
He was returning. The  _Count_ , as he was referred to, was hastily approaching with a group of men giving chase, including Harker himself and a young woman at his side. Was that Harker's fiancée? What happened in England for this to transpire? As the three brides joined in the fray, Áine instead barricaded herself in one of the castle's secret hideaways, the chaos outside growing all the more turbulent. There was nothing else save screams and the sounds of violence.  
When all had fallen quiet, Áine left her hiding spot.  
The brides were dead, the castle raided. Some of the men that had given chase were dead as well. And as for the prince himself, Vlad - Count Dracula - he lay at the feet of an older man, a wooden stake held aloft, then driven into Vlad's chest.  
A cold chill ran down Áine's spine as she stifled her shocked gasp. What should she do?

"Have I been...bested...sir?"

Vlad lay beaten and bloody. The man, this Van Helsing, kneeled, poised to drive the stake deeper. He had won the battle, destroyed everything that had been tainted by the monster he'd come to slay, and the young woman he'd saved sent back to her homeland. One more blow to the stake, and Van Helsing sealed his victory.

"You are judged, and found wanting, Vampire King! You have nothing, you are nothing. Nothing!" he said, gripping the vampire harshly with fistfuls of his raiment.

Slowly, Vlad's eyes began to close. Then came the sound of gentle weeping. His strength all but gone, he managed to move his head, with Van Helsing turning to look as well.

Áine stood some feet behind them, her black garb and hair swaying in the wind. Tears streaming down her face, she pleaded, "Please, no more. Don't...don't kill him... _please, don't kill him_."

"It seems we've missed one," said Van Helsing, pulling another stake from his belt. "No matter. Your Count has been defeated, demon - destined to the pits of Hell. And I'll see to it you follow."

Suddenly Vlad lurched forward, blood gargling in his throat as he weakly latched onto Van Helsing's arm, "No...don't harm her. I'll do...whatever it is...you ask of me. I beg you...sir...let her be."

Shaking off the vampire's grip, Van Helsing approached and snatched Áine by the scruff of her neck, roughly bringing her forward.  
  
"Let her be, you ask? And in return you will do as I say?" Van Helsing asked, amid Áine's shrieks of pain as he threw her to the ground next to the fallen Vlad. "I suppose there is something you could do, and this little she-beast as well."

***

  
And thus Van Helsing left the Romanian countryside, with his monsters in tow, and began the ground work for an idea he had. What better way to hunt monsters, vampires and the like, than by using the monsters themselves as weapons. All he needed to do, was make sure these beasts stay loyal to their master.  
The first part of the process was maintaining control. He was offered servitude by one creature, yes. But to keep that control entirely without question. Well, that was something else all together. For that, the Count needed to willingly relinquish his name as he lay bound on the dusty floor of one of his English estates.  
Then, there was the second.

Van Helsing gave the girl a curious stare, the candle light of the grand parlor giving her porcelain skin a delicate glow. "Give me your name, girl."

"In exchange for what..." Áine stood emotionless, despite the old man's following reply.

"In exchange that I don't put a stake through your heart. You're in no position to argue."

"Then do it,  _sir_. You'd be doin' me a kindness."  
  
Van Helsing laughed for a moment. How odd. This creature, who could kill him in an instant, stood before him unbound and was asking to be destroyed. What game was this? "Alright, I'm listening. Give me your name, and I won't destroy you or your lover over there, and what else?"

"Take me home. When you no longer have need of me, return me to my island." 

"And just where is that?"

"Ériu..."

"Ah, I've me an Irish demon. Interesting." Van Helsing thought for a minute, then heartily rapped the top of the desk he occupied, "Then it's settled. Just don't go making yourself a target once you're released."

From there, the old hunter weaved a bit of magic as he reworked the names of his new servants. Áine of the clan Conaill, simply became Anya O'Connell. And the Count, Vlad Dracula, became Alucard. Now bound to the hunter by name, the real work could begin.  
Anya, while a strong vampire in her own right, was basic in powers and nowhere near the capabilities of her counterpart. Adding seals to her strength and few familiars, bolstering occult knowledge and spell weaving - Van Helsing was going to make himself quite the witch out of the vampiress, as well as a loyal servant. But it was a painful process. Come morning after her first round of experiments, she was escorted back to Van Helsing's basement holding pens, passing by Alucard's cell along the way. He called to her, having heard her screams, reaching out to her in concern.

"Did he harm you?" 

She paused, and met his gaze with a cold stare, "After all these years...the only thing that harms me, is looking at you..."

Then it was the Count's turn.  
All manner of experiments and magic, to mold him into the most powerful supernatural weapon. After a century, how he managed to maintain any semblance of sanity was anyone's guess.  
Powerful, and twisted indeed.  
But also, seemingly forgetful of what Anya had to endure, and it left her resentful and angry.

Throwing off his red coat, she grabbed Alucard by the front of his shirt, "You broke your promise! You said you couldn't bear forever without me, then abandoned me to rot in your absence! I was a newborn vampire, and you left me.  _You left me!_ And you want to talk about what's  _fair_? You haven't the faintest idea! And your whore brides laughin' behind my back, at how you loved them so dearly but couldn't stand to look at me."  In her rage, Anya began to cry, "I gave you my heart, and all I got in return was betrayal..."

Then she fell against his chest, the sadness she'd been holding back taking over.

"Why? What did I do wrong for you to hate me?"

Wrapping his arms about her quivering shoulders, Alucard replied in a soft voice, "You were my shame..."

"I...I don't understand."

"I couldn't stand to look at you? Because I didn't love you? Is that what they'd say? That was never true." Alucard held Anya tighter, "I believed you hated  _me_ , for my selfish want. I feared being alone, so I coaxed you into making the same choice I did...was it even a choice, then. It was never hate I felt for you...only guilt, for making you like me."

Five centuries of smoldering animosity, built on a misunderstanding. She was a fool, they both were. So many years lost, and all for nothing. Certainly they could make amends, but there was another factor to consider. Was there any hope in repairing the bond she had with Integra? Anya had her doubts. The time Alucard had found them, a decision had to be made when Anya was torn between the two. And Anya being frozen, unable to decide then and there the instant Integra demanded it, only infuriated her master. It was unlikely either vampire would be able to remedy her disgust.  
If only Anya could leave, leave this country and the organization, and never look back. Her being gone alone could ease the tension.  
The bedside clock struck the hour, bells ringing in the distance to announce sunrise to the populace. Time for Alucard to make his departure, and return to his coffin. Anya handed back his coat as he left the bed.

"I'll see you soon," he said as he slipped it on, then faded into the shadows.

On her own once more, Anya dropped onto the bed, and softly wept.

The mansion was quiet as he appeared in the main foyer, then headed for the basement levels. In that same moment a voice called to him from the second level balcony. Alucard looked up to see Integra, seemingly concerned.

"Rough night?" she asked, noting the cold expression the vampire wore.

Alucard replied with a heavy breath, "I suppose you could say that..."

Integra scoffed, "I take it Anya's been difficult? No bloody surprise there." 

Alucard stopped in his tracks, his response succinct, and the politeness forced, " _Forgive my boldness_ , my master...but we've all been playing under misinformation. Don't forget, that it was  my intrusion that drove you two apart..."  
  
With nothing more to say, he faded into thin air, leaving the young director taken aback. In the gloom of his chambers Alucard went to go sit in his throne-like chair, but paused. Suddenly he lunged for the bottle of wine sitting atop his end-table, and threw it at the wall. Collapsing into the chair, he buried his face in his hands. All this time, how could he have allowed himself to be so blind. Eventually he leaned back, intending to only rest his eyes a moment before crawling into his coffin, but instead the No Life King drifted off into a deep slumber.  
Her blue eyes were radiant as she smiled. How would their child have been if the infant had survived? No doubt impetuous and eager for mischief. The image was clear. A fussy raven haired child unwilling to be still, laughing and bounding through the castle, freckles dotting along rosy cheeks. This was how it should've been, not the nightmare they'd lived. His child's eyes bright like Anya's as they were pulled onto his lap.  
Papa, why do you cry?  
Three quick raps roused Alucard wake, Seras' voice muffled on the other side of the door.  
The draculina stood quietly, waiting for a response. Then the door to the sub-basement opened on its own. Cautiously Seras trailed the steps, then approached her still seated sire.

"What is it, Police Girl...I do not wish to be disturbed."

"But Master, haven't you heard your phone ringing? Or even your mobile? Master Integra's been trying to reach you for hours. She needs to see you in her office right away."

Both looked to the end-table. The phone receiver had been knocked from its cradle in Alucard's outburst, and as for his mobile phone, he'd switched it off for his tryst with Anya. As much as he would've preferred to stay where he was, if Integra was demanding his presence, then he must oblige. Alucard rose from his seat, then stopped suddenly when Seras grasped his arm.  
  
"Master." The draculina produced a handkerchief from her pocket, and placed it in his hand, "For your eyes. Y-You don't have to explain..."  
  
Reaching up, Alucard touched his face. He'd cried in his sleep? Nonsense. He hastily made use of the handkerchief then threw it to the floor. "It was nothing. Come on along, Police Girl. Let's not keep our master waiting."

Neither vampire had a moment to settle into the room before the Hellsing director proclaimed there was a situation at hand. More of the insurgents they'd been dealing with began to crop up again, as an increasingly large number of them were seen encroaching further and further into the city.  
Walter stepped in, a few papers in hand. By his count, three hundred were spotted in Hyde Park, and about to cross over into Kensington Gardens. With one of the palaces on the other side of the Gardens, there was no doubt as to what the enemy's target location might be. But, even with Alucard's speed, would there be enough time to stop them before any damage could be done?  
Immediately Integra had Walter set up the video link on the office monitors, while dialing on her desk phone. From the security feed, the cameras zeroed in on the palace. Sitting on one end of the roof was Anya, appearing bored as she watched the dusk fade into night, then her mobile phone rang.

_ "Yeah...what is it?" _

"For once I'm glad to see you," said Integra, looking to the monitor screen.

_ "See me?" _

"From the the security cameras."

_"Oh? Well then..."_ Anya finished her reply with a flip of her middle finger.

"Anya! Stop this, we have a crisis! Look toward the Serpentine, those damned insurgents are headed right for the palace! Take care of them while we get in touch with her majesty."

_ "As in I get to kill them?" _

"Yes! And hurry!"

Anya hung up her mobile and stuffed it into one of her boots. For a moment she cheered, bouncing in place, then went to grab her gun holsters. She quickly fastened them in place then ran toward the edge of the roof, leaping off as she hollered, "Prepare to meet your death, ya manky fuck-o's!"

She sped across the green like a dark bolt of lightning, taking out her revolvers the second she saw those sneaking figures in black, their faces partially masked. The vampiress didn't hesitate in firing, bullets zipping into the first cluster of targets that came into view. That was when they began to move faster, but Anya was faster still. Taking careful aim as she dodged their return attacks, she fired again, one bullet shooting through four men lined together.  
These men, however, seemed to have learned from the last encounter with Hellsing's pets. But how could that be? There were none left alive during the attack on the branch office. Unless... The two men that had given Anya and Seras the slip at the metro station. They must've shared their intel, and who knows what else. Perhaps there was more to the attack on the branch office than anticipated. What was their secret? Anya was itching to find out.  
In less than ten minutes the Gardens were already a bloodbath, with several slain insurgents littering the lawn.  
Anya tumbled to the ground to avoid enemy fire. Righting herself into a defensive kneel, she fired at the unlucky fellow looking to shoot her from behind, then aimed her second gun at the man approaching from straight ahead.

"Oy, m'lad. I'd stop right there if I were you," she said, her gleaming eyes fixed on his.

Suddenly the man froze in place just a mere few steps away. On her command he halted his comrades.

"You wouldn't be so  _unkind_ as to deny a lass like me one last phone call before blowin' her head off, would you?" Upon the man shaking his head and granting her request, Anya pulled out her mobile.

Those in Integra's office stood in silence, watching the scene unfold on the monitors. The security cameras hidden throughout the palace and garden properties caught every second. Integra had only just made sure the Queen and the royal family with her were safe, keeping the monarch on the line as she watched her agent at work. Then Integra's personal mobile began to ring.

"Yes? Anya?"

_ "Hello, me darlin'...I'm in a bit of a spot. I'm positively surrounded, and I've only one bullet left. Tell me, whatever am I to do under these circumstances?" _

Integra went rigid as she listened to the vampiress chuckle on speaker. Knowing only one other dared to question her like this, she glanced to Alucard, an amused smirk on his face. She would be seething if the situation were different, and her superior not listening in. 

But before Integra could reply, the Queen began to speak, _"My dear Anya, I must thank you in advance for your continued service. Through your master, my will be done. Heed her orders, then clean up the mess you make."_

"Yes, and my orders are simple, as they've always been!" Integra rose from her chair, clenching the phone in her hand, "Search and destroy! You were ordered to kill the targets, so do it. A single bullet left shouldn't stop you. Release your full power, kill them! All of them!"

Nearly in unison, Integra and the Queen gave the same command. Search and destory.

At their words, Anya chuckled aloud as she smiled at the man in front of her, "As you wish, my master...my queen."

The vampire closed her eyes, her voice resonating as she spoke. Strange words cast an eerie aura, the very air tingling. As the final word was spoken, the perimeter of the park and gardens began to shimmer, then pale rays of light shot up into the sky. A barrier had been made. There was no exit left for these men, as Anya was on the cusp of unleashing her full strength.  
__Releasing Control Art Restriction Systems...  
Unnerved, the insurgents closest to the young woman steadily backed away.  
Three...two...one...zero...  
Suddenly her form shifted into dark mist, billowing into a black plume. It elongated, then twisted and turned, so quickly the men had little time to react before the form of a monstrous black beast emerged; like that of a giant cat. Its four eyes shined brightly as the monstrous cat tore into its nearest prey, tearing them to shreds then chasing down the next.  
Seras' eyes went wide as she watched it all take place, more so as the draculina turned to her sire. The No Life King seemed rather entertained, almost gleeful. One could say he was even envious.  
The security monitors shifted views, the largest monitor focused on the vicious hellcat. Latched onto the throat of an insurgent, its form shifted again, growing larger. Its four eyes merged back to two, glowing a hellish red as the body became more human like. Then from the shadowed form came a sword and shield, parting the veil to reveal Anya's true form. Her true self. The warrior, Áine, clad in the armor of her homeland and paint adorning her features, a wolf's head as the hood of her fur covered cloak. She lunged forward at two men, plowing into them with her shield, and taking their heads with one swing of her sword. Another two tried to attack from the sides. One Áine knocked back with her shield, rocketing him into a nearby statue so hard the impact killed him instantly, while the other she bisected with her blade. More and more, her fight grew bloody, a swirling dance of death and gore as the insurgents either tried to fight or flee. She leaped up with a yell, pouncing on a few escaping for cover. Then it came down to the last man, the vampiress' glare freezing him in place. Without hesitation she ignored his pleas and swung her sword, cleaving the man in half from his crotch to his head.  
The battle was done.  
Áine stood victorious among a field of dead, blood soaked and her chest heaving. Clenching her fangs, she chuckled. This had been such a pleasure, a shame it couldn't have lasted longer. But, she at least had her reward to claim, a bountiful feast to gorge herself on. Extending her arms out wide, she closed her eyes, willing the spilled blood to come. It snaked like sanguine rivers, along the ground and in the air, droplets hanging like glistening red beads. Steadily she absorbed it all, her body aglow with a faint crimson light.  
Alucard and Seras were transfixed at the scene, the No Life King biting his lip with a groan in his throat. However, before the last of the blood could be taken, they saw movement in the trees. Áine herself saw, but a second too late. There was an insurgent hiding in the brush, and from his repeating crossbow he fired an arrow. As it flew, Alucard disappeared as he called for the vampiress, his master and fledgling shouting for him. The arrow hit Áine in the chest as her eyes widened in shock. Then more came zipping toward her, hitting her legs, stomach, and shoulder. The pain was beyond imagination, the metal searing her flesh and insides. Reeling back, the grasp she held over her spell was lost, and the barrier she'd made faded. There came the sound of gunfire as she collapsed, the man in the brush falling dead. Yet instead of the ground, she landed into the arms of Alucard, who knelt to ease her fall. Gasping, she reached for the arrow nearest her heart and tried to pull it out, but to no avail. The arrows were blessed silver, and rapidly sapping her strength. She couldn't pull it out, and neither could the vampire king. Blood trickled out the corners of her mouth as Aine grew weaker, gazing up to the vampire who held her.

"I...am done, A stór..." Áine said with a ragged breath. "Death...has finally come for me."

"No..." Alucard replied softly, "not yet. Your heart hasn't been pierced, you can survive this."

"I'm not...as strong as you. I can feel my body fading...I can't hold my form...for much longer."

But that was where she was wrong, though. Áine had more strength than she realized, Alucard was quick to say. In all their years, how much of his essence had she taken - including the sanguine tears he shed on the day of her human death, that fell into her parted lips. Even the tiniest bit of his power was more than enough to bolster her vitality, all she needed to do was will it to be.  
  
Alucard brushed the hair from Áine's face as he smiled, "Besides, I haven't kept my promise. I was to take you home, remember? Don't leave me just yet. Let me return you to your island."

"Yes...I would like that, A stór...very much."

Áine smiled. With one last breath her body became an inky black mass, and like water, slipped from the No Life King's grip and faded into the earth.  
Seras was taken aback, her dismay reflected in the monitor screen as it was switched off. She turned to the director's desk as Integra sank into her chair, her face in her hands. As much animosity as she and the vampiress had for each other, Integra seemed as though she were holding back a flood of anguish. What more was she to do, when Seras knew nothing of their history, and her station at odds with her mind. To hell with it, she thought, and went to Integra. The draculina came to Integra's side and took her hand, silent as she held it gently and nothing more, while a single tear slipped from her master's eye.  
  


It wasn't long, though, before something a little strange made its way to the Hellsing mansion. The very next day, in fact. Whispers spread of an animal creeping across the property. What it was, no-one could tell. That is, until it showed itself to Seras and Walter as they neared the main entrance. A black shape darted about their legs, circling them then darting off into the mansion. Seras blinked. Was that a cat she saw?  
Integra sat in her office, her desk strewn with papers. She'd been nursing a headache for most of the afternoon, and it was likely to worsen with this new report she'd received. Without warning a shadow jumped onto her then ran across the desk, making a mess of her work. Swearing aloud, she swung at the mysterious beast, then looked to the floor when it stopped to glare at her. Blasted cat, was the first thing that came to mind, then she noticed something more. But just as she made the connection, the cat vanished through the wall.  
As evening began to set, a lone figure sat in one of the mansion's dim parlors. Soft movements in the dark alerted Alucard as he sat in a corner armchair, thinking quietly to himself. He raised his head to gaze at the top of one of the high bookcases. And there, lit by the fading light was the black cat, eyes shining a brilliant blue. Twitching its bushy tail, it softly meowed, then leapt its way down to the floor and climbed into the vampire's lap.

Alucard grinned as he noticed the crest of white on the cat's chest, patting its head as it kneaded his chest and purred, "Took you long enough..."

Immediately after, he was called to his master's office.

"Vampire attacks in Ireland, you say," Alucard said as he glanced at Integra's reports, then at the cat sitting at his feet. "How fortuitous, eh?"

Integra nodded, "Yes. I suppose now is an appropriate time to end her service. Just..." She gazed the cat, and sighed heavily, "Take your girlfriend home, and be quick about it. That vampire in Badrick isn't going to kill itself..."

And a few short hours later, Alucard and Seras stood in the Irish countryside, some yards away from the trees of a wooded meadow. The draculina gripped the handle of a small crate, wondering curiously about the cat inside. How strange, that setting this cat loose was apart of their mission.

However, this was no mere cat, as she soon learned.

"You mean-? Master...you mean to tell me this cat...is Miss O'Connell?!"  
  
"Yes. And it's time we set her free."

"Y-Yes, sir..." Seras set down the crate, and opened the mesh door. Steadily the cat emerged, the bell of its collar tinkling. The draculina had to wonder who had put the collar on, but in the end, she was too shy to ask. As the cat bounded away, she couldn't help but call after, "Goodbye, kitty. Er, I mean, Miss O'Connell. Shame we couldn't get to know each other better."

Before she'd even finished speaking, the cat had disappeared into the brush. But what was that in the trees just now? Seras trained her sight for a better look. A woman peered around a wide tree, partially hidden in the shadows. Her eyes gleamed as she smiled, then vanished into the dark with a laugh, a tiny bell tinkling in the distance.  
 

How she'd missed this, running barefoot through the grassy fields, the moonlight shining bright. Finally Anya was free. Though much of her island had changed, it was still home, its magic all the more prevalent through her vampiric senses. The forests would be better for her bestial form, that  _cait sidhe_ that'd frightened many over the centuries, but for now she was content with the smaller form of an ordinary black cat as she roamed the outskirts of the human town. The sound of gunfire was nearby, drawing her closer. Suddenly she froze in her tracks, eyes wide as the fur on her back rose. Ahead stood a tall priest, and though he smiled, she could sense danger from him.

"Well, hello there," the priest spoke softly as he knelt down. "A wee thing such as yourself should be runnin' home. It's not safe to be out here, not with monsters wanderin' about..."

Again gunfire cracked in the distance, and the priest pardoned himself, leaving the unnerved little cat to run into the woods. Anya had been tempted to aid Alucard and Seras, but no matter. They could handle things well enough on their own. Back she ran to the call of the wild, and the songs of the fae as their lights danced in the tree tops.  


***  


In an oddly shaped room, two figures stood before a massive array of screens.

"It's been done, herr Major. Ze operative O'Connell has been eliminated...alzough, so have our troops."

"Ach, vundabar. Ze loss of zhese men is no concern. As long as zhe Hellsing Organization remains ignorant, ve may move to zhe next stage of our plans. Please inform zhe brothers, zhey're attack on zhe headquarters is nigh."

 

  

 

  
The End  
____________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those who've been waiting for an update. This took me a while to finish, between life stuff and needing to take a break in order to sort out the story and getting another writing project out of my head.  
> Speaking of which - this may be the last MAIN chapter, but I have an epilogue planned and a few smut chapters; 2 of the 3 smut chapters I've been planning have already been written. Those will be done and posted eventually.
> 
> Thanks for being patient with me!


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about writing a chapter summary but, meh. Basically, it's been a while since Anya was returned to her home, and now Alu finds himself stuck on the HMS Eagle. This is their last little chat before the big fight.

On the deck of the destroyed aircraft carrier, under a blackened cloudy sky, stood the lone vampire. With his heightened senses he could see far into the distance, the flickering glow of flames as London burned. So this had been Millennium's plan, to drag him away from England's shores and unable to defend it from invaders. The Major was proving to be quite the enemy, to remove Hellsing's more formidable players from the game.  
First Anya, and now Alucard himself.  
Looking up to the darkness above, he let his mind wander, thinking of that spirited vampiress. How had she been faring since her release? And how was she at this time, now that Millennium was unleashing Hell?  
Alucard let his consciousness roam farther, reaching out to hers wherever she may be. 

"So, there you are..." Anya said, hovering near the edge of a small cliff that overlooked the shore. "I see you've gotten yourself into a tricky mess."

Alucard smirked, "Yes. I take it you're aware of what's happening?"

"I am," the vampiress crossed her arms. "It's all over the news. Who're these people?"

Their age old foe from long ago, resurfaced as the Millennium group, to wage war again. A never ending battle, pitting themselves against the world, against the No Life King. Steadily they had chipped away at Hellsing's foundation, by first taking out one guardian. That was the goal of the insurgents Anya had fought. Drinking the blood of Millennium's members told him as much.  
And here Anya was, unable to return.

"Oh?" Alucard raised his brow in question. 

"Believe me, I know it's possible. But I can't leave," Anya replied. "The fae are gathering, with help from their Majesties. We won't have those fiends coming here."

"So Titania and Oberon are rallying troops as well," Alucard's grin grew wider. "With the help of the cait sidhe herself... Will Áine, the Wolf of Conaill, bare her fangs again?"

"Damn straight I will."

Alucard chuckled. He could picture it clearly, the thought of Millennium soldiers storming the island, only to be greeted by the warrior maiden and her supernatural brethren; provided they made it past any defensive magic put in place beforehand.  
But as for the No Life King, how would he be returning to the fight, after being left out to sea? Oh, he had his ways.

"Cunnin' as ever, I see," Anya laughed. Then she fell somber for a moment. "I'll at least bless the winds to be in your favor, so long as you do me one thing..."

Alucard was intrigued by the change in her demeanor, "And may I ask what that might be?" 

"Take care of her for me."

He didn't need to ask, Alucard knew precisely who she meant. Curious, that though they held contempt for each other, the vampiress still carried a torch for Integra, no matter how tiny the flame. And for Integra, it was the same, regardless of how much she tried to hide it. A trinket that she'd been gifted by Anya, as a token of her affection, still hung from her neck under her clothes. At this, Anya couldn't help but smile. Furthermore, she even gave her regards to the fledgling police girl.  
Again Alucard quirked his brow. Intriguing. Moreover, their speaking of Seras prompted the thought of a peculiar discovery he'd made when he turned her. There was something strange about the girl's blood - something familiar. Then he realized, it'd had similar markers to Anya's, a similar taste and smell.

"Similar to mine? What does that mean?"

"It means I'm fairly certain that she is of your line, a descendant. If I'm right, it means the daughter taken from you all those years ago lived, and had children of her own."

"I see. Is she aware?"

"No, but that could change..."

"Leave it be. As it is, she's better off not knowin'. Just be careful with her, yeah? Don't let her be like me."

Anya closed her eyes, and whispered. Her hushed spell stirred the wind, blowing past her and out toward the open sea. And once it reached the broken vessel, Alucard smiled as it rustled his hair, albeit darkly as his will began to move the ship. Now for the journey home, and the battle that raged in his absence.

"Rest assured, I'll make sure those two are looked after. Take care...for now," Alucard said softly, reaching out one last time to bid his farewells.

"Likewise,  _Count_. Take care. And, show those bastards what we do to our enemies."

"Indeed, I will," Alucard replied. "And should you find yourself in London again...my coffin's always open... _A stór_."

 

-FIN-  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue's up, yay. Now to focus on the naughty stuff =3


	5. Closer - sidechapter-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optional smut chapter, feel free to pass if you don't want to read.
> 
>  
> 
> The title comes from the Nine Inch Nails song.

That was the last thing she needed to see, her two vampire servants embraced in the middle of a dark corridor; and, their mocking smiles. Integra stood stock still at the sight, her fists clenched so tight her nails threatened to tear into the fabric of her gloves. She had to get away, and quickly, before her anger got the better of her. Scoffing at their act, she turned on her heel and went back the way she had come.

Clearing his throat as he walked alongside her, Walter voiced his concern, "Apologies, ma'am, if this has upset you."

Integra paused for a moment once they reached her office, "It is what it is, Walter. If this is what he needs to be entertained and stay off my back...then Alucard is free to...see whomever he wishes."

"Apologies again, ma'am, but if I might be so bold, it wasn't Master Alucard I was referring to. I may not know the full extent, but if I recall, you and Miss O'Connell were once quite close."

Integra didn't reply immediately, standing with her hand about to grasp the doorknob. Nearly a minute passed before she spoke again, sighing audibly as she relaxed her shoulders.

"It is what it is." Then Integra bid her butler good night, and entered her office.

 

Integra's expression when she had found them left Anya with a wicked grin. The encounter was wholly unexpected, although the young director more than likely thought otherwise. However, regardless of that notion, seeing Integra undoubtedly burning on the inside gave the vampiress a slight feeling of satisfaction as she pulled Alucard through the wall and into an empty study. Then, upon hearing her chuckle, he cooly asked what was so amusing.

"Oh nothin'. Just the glare on our master's face."

"Proud of ourselves, are we?"

Anya chuckled again, "I suppose. Take that for makin' me play bodyguard again."

Flipping her long ponytail over her shoulder, Anya went deeper into the study and braced herself against a credenza flanked by a pair of antique armchairs.  
The study was lit from the moonlight pouring in from the windows, illuminating the bit of furniture and decor. Alucard himself seemed to soak up the moon's glow as he approached, his eyes alight with a bestial gleam. Without a word, he grasped the vampiress' lithe form, steadily running his hands along her hips and up her torso, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.

"Let's not talk about that," he said as he pulled Anya close. "What of our earlier bit of fun? That's what you dragged me in here for, isn't it?"

Her mischievous smile was her reply. Clasping a hand to his cheek, she brought the vampire down and took his lips.  
As she gripped his hair, and stroked her leg about his, the vampire king took Anya's actions as a cue to take things further; particularly the nips at his lip. With a firm grasp on her hips, Alucard turned her around, his chest at her back as his momentum planted her onto the credenza's polished surface.  
Wait, what was he doing? Trying to have this done his way? Again? More often than not he always took the lead, choosing their positions - and rarely was Anya the one on top. Well, not this round. If that smirking man in red was looking to be the dominant one, he was going to have to work for it. The instant his gloved hands pulled up her skirt, Anya bucked him off and darted to one side.

"What the-?!" Alucard exclaimed in the commotion, "What are you playing at?"

Quickly Anya righted herself, fixing her skirt as she threw him a heated look in return, "I want you...but if you're lookin' to be the top dog this time, a stór, you'll be earnin' it."

Then, with a dark grin, the vampiress disappeared through the floor.

Albeit briefly, he was perplexed by this sudden turn. Anya had never complained before. Perhaps her time with Integra gave rise to new appetites.

"Very well, then," Alucard thought aloud, as he stared at the empty space his lover once occupied, "the game is on..."

 

Down she went, through the black until Anya touched solid ground, standing in the dim dungeons below the estate. The winding corridors were labyrinthian to the untrained, but for one such as Anya it was a playground, despite its sordid memories. There wasn't time to dawdle, however. Alucard wasn't easy to evade, and for this little game of hide and seek to have any pleasurable pay off, she needed to make it last as long as she possibly could. She'd have to use every skill at her disposal, as the No Life King wouldn't fall for the same trick twice - save for one, but that one she'd leave as a last resort because surely he'd be doing the same, if he wasn't already.  
Just ahead, there were three paths to choose from. Forward, along a series of empty rooms and storage, or left, leading to the old occult and experimentation chambers. Then there was the corridor to the right, which held nothing of note, until one reached the stairwell that lead further down to the holding cells.  
Suddenly she could hear his knowing laugh, his tell that signaled his impending approach. Blast it all, Anya thought, forward it is - for now, at least. It wasn't as if she was limited by these stone walls anyway, just lead him down one way then throw him off her scent and circle back. With her plan in mind she took off, vanishing into thin air. Shortly thereafter, Anya reappeared. However, the thought that she had successfully avoided detection was undone. She was right back where she had started. Immediately she tried again, heading left this time. But once more, she was back where she started. Alucard seemed to be toying with her. No, this can't be. He couldn't have found her already. Where was the fun in that? Well then, time to make use of the one ability she had that made her nigh undetectable. Smirking triumphantly, Anya faded into the dark, and emerged at a different point in the dungeons. Her form was now that of cat, fur soft and black with a crest of white on her chest. Silently she crept along the stone walls, ducking into rooms the instant she saw a flash of that crimson red coat. The sound of his voice calling out for her, to lure her out of hiding, made Anya softly laugh. To outdo him this long, for nearly an hour at best - there should be an award for this. But, that little titter of hers - since the echo of his footfalls had stopped abruptly, Alucard must've heard it. Then, the door opend to the storeroom Anya was hiding in. Quickly, she darted under an old cloth-covered sofa, narrowly dodging his line of sight.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he said, "I know you're here..."

_'No you dooo-ooon't...'_

Anya's voice reverberated in every direction, openly delighted in their chase.

"You laugh now, but you think I don't know, a stor? No one in this estate owns an animal, particularly a feline. So come here, kitty, kitty, kitty..."

Anya began to sweat mentally. He was going to find her any minute now that he deduced the scent of her familiar, but where should she go this time?

"Boo!"

Suddenly Alucard peered under the musty cloth, spotting the wide-eyed cat hiding below. At the outburst, Anya's cat form jolted, her head hitting the underside of the sofa before running out toward the open door. Amind his laughter she ran, this way and that, down corridor after corridor. For an instant she paused to look behind her, only to see the form of a great black hound galloping toward her. The sight of Alucard as his familiar spurred Anya back into action.

_'AHH! God dammit, why'd you bring Baskerville into this?!'_

_'Fair is fair, my dear...'_

He was closing the distance, and fast. Then a heavy weight knocked Anya off her feet. Once she regained her senses, she saw the great hound above her.

_'I believe that's checkmate...'_

_'How's this fair, when you're so much bigger than I am?' Anya replied._

_'Sour, are we? Here, why don't we share in the pay-off? I'm rock hard as it is...'_

Leaning up, the cat licked the hound under the jaw, then phased through the floor as Anya began to shift her form. Together they slipped through shadow, the sensation of hands all over her body, until they emerged finally in Alucard's chambers. Once more Anya was laid atop a hard surface, her now bare body still sporting a few feline features. Her transformation back to her original form was not yet complete, but neither was the No Life King's as he held tight to her hip, penetrating her deep as he braced himself on the lid of his coffin. His claws tore her skin, blood seeping through his fingers. Steadily he caressed his hand along her body, then grasped her chest. Growls rumbled in his throat as Alucard raised Anya to him, the smell of her blood spurring his lust as his other hand snagged her by the hair. He lapped at her neck as he bucked against her, raking the tips of his fangs across her flesh.

"Don't you dare," Anya said through her panting breaths. "And for once, I want be facin' you when you come."

"As you wish..."

His voice still gruff, Alucard turned Anya around. Again she felt the sensation of multiple hands touching her, and indeed there were. Cold, wooden hands gripped her, having sprung from the sides of the coffin, holding her aloft for the vampire king. He clutched at her breasts, then roughly dragged his grip to her hips as he lanced her once more.   
Despite the bit of pain Anya smiled, her teeth clenched to hold back the urge to scream with ecstasy. Although this was far more than what she had expected, the experience was beyond pleasurable to say the least. To be suspended in the air by Alucard's sentient coffin, while the vampire himself was still in a semi bestial state, his eyes nearly rolling back with this fervent fucking... Why hadn't they tried this before? And, how much longer was he going to last? Anya was already on the brink, her toes curled, and legs shaking as she wrapped them about his waist. Hardly a moment later she tightened that hold, arching her back as she cried out. More and more, her voice echoed, growing louder the harder he thrusted. Then, he succumbed alongside her. Caught in his throat at first, those brusque growls and heavy breaths grew into a rapturous cacophony, Alucard's countenance contorting into the look of sheer orgasmic bliss. Just as Anya wished, he looked her in the eyes as he came, that knowing grin of his twitching at the corner of his lips.


	6. I Hate Myself for Loving You - sidechapter-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optional smut chapter, feel free to skip.

  
As tedious as it was at first, the hunt at the branch office gave an unexpected boost of excitement. It was bloody, and it was fun. The gang of humans that thought they could bring down the organization with such infantile tactics, Anya took extra pleasure in snuffing them out. Then, watching as her No Life King took a turn, her blood ran hot with every bullet he fired.  
They had wanted each other so badly at the end. How much longer was he going to make her wait?  
Anya stood counterpoised at the side of the bed of her palace suite, her gaze oddly fixated on the elegant covers as she tapped the toe of her boot. The air of expectation was steadily making her impatient.  
A muted cough came from behind.

The vampiress turned, coldly eyeing the guard who'd been assigned as her palace escort, "Must you still be here? I'm expectin' company."

Stammering at the annoyance in the young woman's voice, the guard replied, "W-Well...I, uh...I was to make sure your n-needs were met before leaving...ma'am."

"Just leave," Anya retorted.

"I, uh...are you positive, ma'am? You don't need anything at all?"

Anya sat in a huff on the edge of the bed, "Look, mate, what I want, you can't provide...so just leave. My guest should be arrivin' soon as it is."

The guard choked back the lump in his throat. While her icy gaze made him shudder, her presence on the other hand - the sound of her voice, the look of her - made him weak. "Anything you want, ma'am, I'll get it for you."

Anya quirked a brow. This guard should know the kind of creature he was dealing with. And yet he continued to stay, where others would've gladly left for safer spaces. Then the vampiress smirked, once she realized the change in the guard's demeanor.

"I can smell your arousal from here," she said as she held her chin in thought. Anya's smirk widened, fangs exposed as if a shark had learned to smile, "You want to fuck me, don't you..." 

Although others might've been fearful of this, the guard instead drooped his shoulders, his composure melting into lust, "Oh God, yes." He quickly went to her, dropping to his knees at her feet, "Please...I'll do whatever you want."

Chuckling lightly, Anya leaned back as she slowly spread her legs, "Try to turn me on, if you can." Then for a moment she paused, sensing a slight hesitation from the man. "Don't worry, m'lad, I've already fed."

The guard's heart skipped a beat as Anya grazed her hand along his cheek. His fear ebbing, he gripped her slender legs and pushed them farther apart. She wasn't cold like he had first thought as he peppered her inner thigh with kisses. Instead, she was rather warm. It was strange, but then again he was dealing with a creature he had once thought a myth. He raised the hem of Anya's skirt, then ran his hand across the satin fabric of her panties as he licked the crease of her leg. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he was about to pull the undergarment aside, something menacing weighing heavily in the air.

"What's this? Have I kept you waiting too long?"

The guard shot up, he and Anya both looking to the man in red near the wide set of windows, his figure cast in the bright moonlight. Eyes hidden by the lenses of his sunglasses, the man smiled. This wasn't meant to be uplifting, or reassuring. This was the same predatory smile Anya had worn only a few minutes earlier. The guard shivered, reality changing drastically. He was in the midst of a lion's den, and it was time he left. Shrinking away, he didn't bother with formalities, too afraid to speak or even scream as he ran for the door.

Anya breathed an irritated sigh as an unseen force shut the door in the guard's wake, "That was a bit unnecessary, don't you think?"

"I could ask you the same question," Alucard replied, with a fair amount of snark to his tone.

"Does it bother you that he was here?" Anya crossed her arms, "Why do you care? You never did before. Nor would you care if it were me in your place."

Both fell silent, a moment or so passing before either spoke again.

"I was detained longer than anticipated. Integra wanted a report about our earlier task, then berated me for attempting to leave without her permission."

Again Anya sighed in annoyance, laying back then rolling onto her stomach, " _ Tsk _ , of course. But did you have to bring her up? For once I'd like an evening together without hearing her name."

"So be it, then."

Quietly, the No Life King approached the young woman, gripping the end post of the canopy bed. He lightly swung himself about, then half draped his body over hers. He touched a gloved hand to the side of her chest as he leaned in to inhale her scent, slowly trailing down her back.  
They rarely got along anymore, Anya and their master. One antagonizing the other, and vice versa. It hadn't always been this way, as he learned one surprising evening, finding Anya in Integra's room. Fate, it seemed, had a different idea in mind as a gambled choice found both vampires barred from their master's affections that night, and every night since. They had each other, though, despite their differences, eventually deciding to rekindle their old romance. Although, there were moments when Anya acted as if this was a poor consolation. There was no point in pining over what couldn't be changed, at least that's how Alucard saw it. Integra's decision was final, like it or not. And, neither could they undo their tumultuous past. However, he didn't push the issue, even now. But wait. What was this? As he reared up and braced his knee on the bed, he glided his hand about her backside then slipped it under her skirt. Pushing aside the fabric, he discovered something that left him a bit taken aback. These black satin undergarments used to be Integra's. 

Steadily circling his hand around the left side her ass, the vampire voiced his query, "Feeling nostalgic? How'd you come by these?"

"I didn't steal them, if that's what you're implyin'..." Anya replied.

"Perish the thought. But," Alucard smirked, his voice low and provocative, "seeing as how you won't be needing them at the moment..." He took hold of Anya's panties and pulled them down, sliding them along her legs and casting them to the floor. Her boots were next, each tossed away without a second thought, his lustful state urging him to tear her clothes away. As the vampiress slipped off her skirt, he tore off her blouse and fitted camisole as if they were tissue paper, leaving her with nothing more than her corset, garter belt, and stockings. Her bare chest heaved in anticipation as Alucard eyed her form hungrily, eagerly waiting for his next move. He shifted his gaze to the soft meadow between her legs. That human had thought himself worthy enough to touch her. No, this would not do. The mere fact that the man's scent still lingered, only spurred the vampire's craving. Planting his knees on the floor, he parted her legs to taste her flesh. He bathed her skin with his tongue, raking it slowly over her folds as she quivered. His smile deepened the more he lapped and flicked her tender node, Anya's gasps and moans stoking the flame of his desire. She was close, on the cusp of calling out his name and begging him to fuck her. He paused, then moved up her torso. Placing his right hand by her head, Alucard bolstered himself on his arm, then gripped the glove of his other hand with his teeth. The instant he pulled it off and cast is aside, he put his fingers to work. It was pleasure in and of itself to see her face as she reacted to his touch, her eyes clenched shut and cheeks flushed as she whimpered with every stroke and thrust.  
But, as caught in the moment as he was, the No Life King wondered in the back of his mind...  
Had Anya been like this with Integra? Did Integra blush with Anya between her thighs?  
It didn't matter. Anya was his again now, and only he could pleasure her this way. He licked the peaks of her chest, her petite breasts barely a mouthful. The vampiress gasped aloud and clasped her hands to his face, pulling him toward her lips. Alucard could still smell the remnants of their feast on her breath, but the scent of her blood was sweeter as his fangs pierced the flesh of her mouth, the dark ichor trailing down the contours of her face.  
Anya meanwhile, pulled at Alucard's coat, fervently working it off his body. The blazer and vest of his suit, his tie, each one madly thrown off. And since her beloved showed little care for her shirt, she ripped his open as well. His skin was equally pale, and as she raised her eyes toward his handsome countenance, she saw that the vampire had shifted his appearance. He was more vibrant and youthful, his hair long and black as night as he hovered above her. He could take any form he wanted - this one, though, he knew was her favorite. He took his fingers from inside her and suckled them with a lingering groan, then he hooked his hand under her leg, keeping a firm hold as he undid his trousers. Doing away with his remaining glove, he gripped his aching member and steadily pressed it into his lover. Her sensuous cries filled the room, an erotic song for only him to enjoy, and oh how Alucard delighted in this. Teasing his Celtic beauty, working her up into a fervor, then reaping his rewards as she dug her nails into his back. As bothersome as it was just to have these moments alone without interruption, at least they were well worth the wait. Unbridled in their passions these two nightwalkers could do as they pleased with each other, reaching levels of ecstasy the average human could only imagine. Alucard smirked again, that smug smile widening with every thrust as Anya grew louder. But, he was quickly reminded that Anya herself was a vampire not to be trifled with. She turned him onto his back as if he weighed nothing, rolling her hips feverishly as she pinned his arms to the bed. She could have her fun, for the moment. Shadows crept in, crawling up the sides of the bed like snakes. En masse, they enclosed the canopy frame like macabre curtains, the pair shrouded in their personal dark dimension. In her fervor, Anya opened her eyes just as the last shred of light disappeared, seeing nothing but the man beneath her in a sea of black.

"So you're lookin' to play rough, eh?" Anya said through brusque pants. "Is this how you treat a lady?"

"Don't get coy with me, Aine..." Alucard grit his teeth, holding onto the vampiress' waist. This caught her by surprise. She could scarcely recall the last time he called her by her true name. Intriguing, this and the enraptured look on his face, heavy breaths growling in his throat as his voice changed, "Mai tare..."

As she touched her forehead to his, Anya ground her hips harder, their panting breaths heavy in each other's ears. The surrounding shadows undulated, long tendrils crawling across the bed and looping about their bodies. Some caressed up Anya's thighs, gently rubbing and kneading her ass. One went to stimulate her more, working itself steadily to ease its way inside. Then Anya jolted up, yelping aloud as the shadow limb increased its girth as it penetrated deeper. Yet her sudden cry only lasted for an instant as another thick tendril claimed her open mouth. Tempted by the taste of blood, she suckled it harder, making the act more alluring for the vampire beneath her. Writhing all the more, tightening their embraces, their impassioned act was about to reach its zenith. Alucard clutched Anya's thighs as her nails dug into his shoulders. Once the building pressure between their legs became too much to bear, their voices cried out, reverberating within their secluded realm. Her energy utterly spent, the vampiress collapsed onto Alucard's chest. The shadows slowly disappeard as he moved their tired bodies, resting the shuddering Anya atop a pillow. He gently brushed her hair from her face, the almost tender strokes of his hand against her head lulling her into a deep sleep.

Staring down at her, Alucard couldn't help but smile faintly.

"You are quite the handful," he said with a contented sigh. "Sleep well...A stór."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "mai tare" - means 'go harder'


	7. Ever Fall in Love With Someone (You Shouldn't've Fallen in Love With) - sidechapter -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optional smut chapter, feel free to skip.

This job was never meant to be easy. I assumed my role knowing the full weight of my responsibilities, knowing what they had done to my father. The road would be long and hard, but such is my duty - for Queen and Country. And though my fellow council members would look down their noses at me, the young heir of Hellsing, I'm at ease knowing there are a few who'd stand by my side. Or, so I'd like to think. Walter, I'm sure of. And I have you.  
But then, there's her.  
I don't doubt Anya's loyalty to the organization, or to the Queen. Nor do I question her loyalty to you, if I can call it that.  
It was her loyalty to me.  
Even now I can't quite gauge her motivations. Is her misconduct for the hell of it, or does she do it to spite me? There are times when I think she'd spite this entire operation into the ground if she could.  
  
The mansion is dark, the clock reading just after two in the morning. Everyone is most likely asleep - save my pets, and myself. Seras, I know would be in her room. But you and Anya, and your penchant for wandering. Neither of you can stand to be bored, can you?  
Distancing myself from a stack of paperwork, I look out my office windows. The moon is rather bright tonight. Where are you two, I wonder. Something moves out of the corner of my eye, just there on the adjacent side of the mansion. There you are, in the library. What game are you playing? She's searching the shelves, pulling out a book. And you, taking a peek over her shoulder, then putting your hand up her skirt. Of course she'd try to hit you with it. Why do you bother to play chase? Is it for the thrill? Even though she lets you catch her? Because I can see it from here, how you pull her to you, kissing passionately before lifting her onto the nearby table. Despite the fervor, you're still tender with her, pulling open her shirt as she does the same for you.  
Is she smiling for you, Alucard? I think she is. Although I can't see clearly, I'm certain, knowing her the way I do.  
How you lap at her bare chest, teasing Anya before undoing your trousers, her legs wrapping around your waist. I can see that gleam of red in your eyes as she arches her back.  
Does she call your name as you grind into her?  
She always would for me. I can recall her voice so easily, as if she were gasping it in my ear at this very moment.  
Your shadows suddenly black out the windows. I shouldn't have been watching in the first place, but now my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I take to my computer, quickly accessing the mansion's security feed. I shut down all camera visuals to the library, except for my own. Only I can see, and curse my own deviance.  
You're braced on the other edge of the table, gripping tight as you fuck her. I feel a growing ache as I sit in my desk chair, seeing the look of ecstasy on her face. How does she like the feel of your cock inside her? I can only imagine, and that thought frightens me. It's not you I fear, however. If I did, I wouldn't be your master. It's how you'd be, if were I to let you have your way. What could be gentle for a vampire like Anya, could be devastating for a human like me. And, only she knows how to hold me without breaking me.  
Your grip on the table tightens, cracking the wood as you move faster.  
The ache grows harder the more I watch, then I see you both glance in the direction of the security camera. You know I can see, don't you - and yet, you don't stop. I can see Anya's lips move...  
  
_I know you're there... Look at me... Integra... Jealous?_  
  
I can't stand it any longer. Damn you. Damn you both.  
I open my blazer, and undo my shirt and pants. Then, clutching my own breast, I slip my hand between my legs.  
I remember so vividly, when she used to be mine. My own. My Anya.

***

Alone in a dim parlor, Anya reclined on a chaise lounge as she read a worn book, the antique lamp on the table beside her casting a soft light. Skimming a passage, she rolled her eyes. 

"The English do love their romantic tragedies," she said aloud.

"Who're you reading," asked a voice.

Anya looked up, seeing the young woman leaning against the parlor door frame, the lenses of her glasses shining in the faint light.

Integra smiled, her arms folded as she gave Anya a curious look. Steadily she approached, her long skirt swaying as she walked. Taking a seat next to her, the young director took the book from Anya.

Integra chuckled as she glanced over the cover, "Shakespeare? Never pegged you for a fan."

"I'm not. Your father would always quote his work, though...I figured at some point I'd read up on what he was yammerin' about. I've read better. But, at least ol' Bill is aware of his own pretension."

"Pretension? Is that what you think?" Integra laughed. "Anya, please..."

Integra sat the book down on a different table, then grasped Anya by the hand. For a moment she examined it, running the tips of her fingers over the skin. She was so pale, Integra thought, tracing the lines of Anya's veins. Then she examined Anya fully, scanning her eyes up from Anya's boots to her perplexed face. The torn stockings she wore under a pleated skirt, her sleeveless blouse cinched like a tunic with multiple studded belts. And her long black hair, with a few pieces plaited and tied up into a ponytail. Others found her exceptionally odd. But to Integra, the vampiress was intriguing, and her natural beauty enviable.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" Anya asked, starting to become concerned.

Integra blinked, then scratched the tip of her nose coyly, her cheeks flushing, "No reason... It's just that I... I think you're pretty..."

Anya sighed heavily, "My girl, why do you do this to me?"

At that, Integra pursed her lips, clapping her hands to her hips, "Fine. If you will not accept my compliments then, servant, I want you to fix my hair."

Immediately she went to grab something to sit on, taking a decorative foot stool and placing it at Anya's feet. Integra straightened her tresses and sat herself down with her back to Anya, taking her glasses off and holding them in her lap.

"Well then, my master," Anya said, even more perplexed, "What do you want me to do with it?"  
  
"M-Make it," Integra said, further stumbling through her reply, "Make it...like yours. Those braids, woven over with thinner ones. I like how you do that."  
  
As her tension eased, Anya smiled, and did as requested. Gently, she took Integra's hair and ran her fingers through its length, her blonde mane cascading well past her backside. Bit by bit, she formed the braids, weaving each piece carefully. When she reached the ends, she realized she had nothing to fasten them with. But, it seemed Integra had come prepared. She pulled from her pockets a handful of hair ties, thin and clear, and a number of pale blue ribbons. Once Anya was done with the braided hair she'd made on either side, she brought a few of the pieces together at the back and fastened them with one of the ribbons. Turning her around, Anya then pulled the rest over Integra's shoulders and neatly framed them alongside her bangs.  
  
"In my time, the young maidens of my village would wear their hair like this, sometimes addin' flowers," Anya stated as she admired her work. "It's lovely on you." 

From her other pocket Integra produced a small mirror. She blushed again, "Thank you."

She clutched the mirror silently, staring at her own reflection. Anya was always so sure of herself, and rarely afraid to speak her mind - traits Integra had been balancing since she was a child. But, she was no longer a child, and the feat that'd been challenging her the most thus far was her own heart. What was she to do, when what she wanted breached her own principles? She would be breaking multiple rules of conduct within her own organization. Such confliction, and neither did she want to think about the repercussions.  
But, she wanted to try at least. 

Setting aside the mirror, Integra took Anya by the hand again, "You know I'll be twenty tomorrow...and, you're one of my dearest friends..."

"Yes," Anya furrowed her brow. "Integra...what're you gettin' at? Really?"

"I...I want you to be...more..." Integra brought Anya's hand to her face and brushed her cheek against it, "I want to be more than friends. I want to know you...share my heart with you."

Anya's mouth fell open, appearing shocked by this. She sat unblinking, until Integra could no longer bear it.

"Bugger, Anya, please," she said, giving the vampiress' arm a tug. "The least you can do is give me a bloody answer."

"Sorry, I...I'm just shocked is all. Me? More to the point, do you really want to risk it?"

"I would...for you," Integra replied softly, a smile growing along her lips. "It's fine if you want to think about it. When you're ready, find me tomorrow...and, give me my first kiss."

Anya smiled as well, "Then, come here."

Gently she pulled Integra onto her lap, caressing her hands along her delicate features as Integra did the same. Their lips touched for a brief moment, then again, held tenderly as Integra's heart fluttered in her chest.

The following afternoon found Integra meeting with her fellow aristocrats, who'd been invited to share in a small gathering for her birthday. There was friendly chatter, a few complimenting the braids she still wore. But, for the most part, it was politics and matters of state, then high tea in the gardens, followed by a formal dinner.  
As she and her guests awaited the call to their evening meal, Integra wondered when she would see Anya. The sun had already set, and she had yet to show. Would she come at all? And, if she did, how would she be dressed? Knowing her, Anya would likely arrive in something ostentatious - like a leather cocktail dress and fishnet tights, simply to fluster the gentry. The thought of Sir Penwood dropping his glass of bourbon at such a sight, though, made Integra chuckle inwardly.  
Dinner came and went, and still no Anya.  
However, when they retreated to one of the larger parlors for a round of drinks and a smoke, that's when she made her entrance.  
Integra turned at the call of her name, seeing her vampiress in the doorway wearing an elegant black gown similar to her own of silver, her long hair up in an intricate bun. Of course, Alucard was not far behind, a few of the invited nobles flinching in his presence. Although amused by this, he remained courteous with his well wishes to his master, then exited the room to return to his basement quarters. Anya, by comparison was a dream, charming and graceful, nearly to a fault. Even the few who were aware of her true nature seemed to have forgotten that this refined young woman was a vampire.  
The evening drew to a close, and it was time to bid the guests their goodbyes, with Integra shaking each one by hand as they left. Anya pulled her aside for a moment, holding her hands as she kissed her cheeks, then whispering softly in her ear.

"Meet me in your room at midnight..."

Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.  
An hour passed, and finally the last of the guests departed, the taillights of their cars fading beyond the front gates.  
Integra stood still for a moment, letting the following silence wash over her. Squaring her shoulders, she looked to Walter as he bolted the doors.

"Walter..."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'll be in my room for the remainder of the night, and would prefer to _not_ be disturbed unless under dire circumstances."

"As you wish, ma'am..." Walter bowed with a smile, "And happy birthday, Sir Integra."

Returning the gesture, Integra smiled and bowed her head in thanks, then made her way upstairs.

The walk to her room was slow, the halls eerily quiet, her nerves twisting with anticipation. What would be awaiting her the moment she walked in, knowing Anya would be there? Tentatively, she gripped the door handle, pausing briefly to steady herself before pushing open the door.  
Silk rose petals were scattered about the floor, and covered her bed, white candles flickering on each nightstand. And there, at the windows, still in her black gown, stood Anya as she gazed up at the night sky. Her pale skin glowed ever so faintly as she looked to Integra, trying to hide a show of glee at her approach. They met at the foot of Integra's bed, Anya clasping a long velvet box.

"I've been waitin' all evenin' to give you this," she said. "I can't give you real flowers...but, I can give you this."

Opening the box revealed a small rose pendant, a glimmering moonstone at the center of its gold petals.

Integra gasped at the gift, and the sincerity in Anya's voice as she replied, "I...I don't know what to say."  
  
"Please, tell me you like it, mo chroí," Anya replied. "You are my heart, my master...and with this, I give you mine, and all of myself."  
  
Integra gently touched the pendant, the genuine affection from the vampiress making her cheeks flush. Speechless, she bundled her long tresses, turning so Anya could place the necklace on her. The instant the chain was fastened, Integra whirled about and threw her arms around Anya. Never had she been made to feel this way, disarmed by overwhelming emotion, her knees nearly buckling as she clung to Anya. Holding back tears, Integra caressed her cheeks, bringing Anya's lips to hers.  
  
"My darling, I love it," Integra said as she pulled away, bracing their foreheads together. "Stay with me... Even if it's only for tonight, stay with me." 

"As you wish..."

Steadily they kicked off their heeled shoes, and relieved each other of their gowns. Amid puddles of chiffon fabric and lace, they stood in their negligee as Anya reached up to undo her hair, curled tendrils falling en masse down her bare chest and back. Gingerly, she took Integra's glasses, and set them down.  
Pulling her onto the bed, Integra held Anya close, wanting more of her kisses before letting her loose to roam her quivering body. Once she relented, the vampiress eased her way down, pausing briefly at her master's neck. The smell of her blood prompted much temptation, the urge to bite dwelling in the back of Anya's mind. But no, she mustn't. What she was being offered was already sweet enough. Continuing on, Anya raked her tongue across Integra's heaving chest, her breasts soft and warm. Integra whimpered softly with every pluck of her hardened peaks, Anya grinning as she did it again, gripping each plump bud in turn with her lips. Then, she eased down her master's stomach, snagging her gartered panties as she reached her hips. Anya quickly popped the fasteners on her stockings, then pulled the panties off. Without hesitation, Anya slipped under Integra's legs and gripped her gently, licking her flesh as if it were candy. Integra shuddered, her arousal growing despite Anya's cold touch, every moist lap triggering a pleasured sigh. The more Anya tickled her sensitive node, the more Integra arched her back, gripping fistfuls of the bed sheets. Suddenly, she reached out and took her vampiress by the back of the neck and pulled her up, rolling her onto her back. She mimicked the same actions Anya took, teasing her just as much. Then, gripping her by the ankle, she hugged Anya's one leg, then straddled the other. Back and forth they rocked their hips, feverishly grinding into each other. Glistening with sweat, Integra looked to her lover as Anya softly gasped her master's name, her eyes clenched shut as she clung to the bed. Was she close? Integra had to wonder, as she was growing numb herself. She pressed harder, pushing for the climax. Her groin began throb, then electricity shot up her back, shaking with every sensuous cry. Once it was over she slumped to the bed, then weakly untangled their bodies, and crawled to lay at Anya's side. Anya shivered, panting faintly as Integra held her close.

"Integra...m-my master," she said, gently nuzzling against Integra's cheek.

"My Anya..." Integra replied.

One more kiss, then slowly they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

The stolen moments together made each day more enjoyable. A quick kiss in an empty room, or something more daring if they had the chance. But simply, it was knowing she had someone to go to when Integra felt alone. The stress and tension faded once she ended her day and retreated to her room, finding Anya waiting for her with a warm smile.  
A year passed, and the night of her twenty-first birthday was much like the previous.  
The two lovers lay snuggling in their underclothes, their legs intertwined; Integra in a loose button-down top, and Anya in a fitted shirt.

"You call me  mo chroí \- 'my heart', correct?" Integra chuckling, "What else do you call me?"

"A rúnsearc," Anya replied, burrowing into Integra, "My secret love."

"So you love me, eh?"

Anya smiled, then gave a kiss as her reply. Before they knew it, it was morning, the sky outside gradually growing lighter. But, despite the incoming dawn, the room became darker, the air heavy, the scent of death lingering ever so faintly. Anya bolted upright, then put Integra behind her, guarding her from the shadowed form that phased through the bedroom door. Integra could feel Anya stiffen, the vampiress ready to attack. There was a soft growl in her throat as the figure came closer, then it turned to surprise as the figure revealed themself.

"So this is where you've been spending your nights..." said Alucard with an odd grin.

Anya grit her teeth, "What's it to you who I spend my nights with? You haven't cared in ages."

"So you think...or have you forgotten..." Alucard replied. He then removed his right glove, and on his forefinger there was a band of braided string. "Despite our past, you and I are still bonded. However...I know you're not against sharing...if that is an option."

Integra rushed forward, wrapping an arm around Anya's shoulders as she froze in place, "Know your place, servant! How dare you come in here, and even suggest such a thing."

Keeping his gaze fixed to the slackjawed vampiress, Alucard spoke again, "You've been dodging me year after year for nearly a century, ignoring my queries...and now I find you like this."

Integra's eyes narrowed, "Queries? What are you blathering about?" 

Alucard continued to keep his attention set on Anya, "If you want her, just say so, but know that I've been wanting you back at my side. Still...the choice is yours."

"She's made her choice!" Integra barked. "Haven't you, Anya...Anya?"

Too stunned to move, all Anya could do was shiver. She couldn't think, nor speak, staring blindly at nothing. Being pulled in different directions, this was torture. What was she to do, when her mind and voice refused to work?  
This lack of response, though, was more than an offense.

"You said you loved me...and you now hesitate?" Integra pulled away in angered disbelief, "Get out..."

Anya jerked her head around, her eyes wide. When she had yet to move, Integra grabbed her and pulled her from the bed, shouting for her to leave as she forcibly dragged her to the bedroom door. The instant she was shoved out into the hall, Integra slammed the door, then shouted 'Get out' again.  
As Alucard phased through the closed door, the command must've been for him. He quietly looked to Anya as she stood in the dim corridor, red tears streaming down her face.

"Anya...I-"

"Leave me alone!" 

Immediately she turned and darted away, about to disappear into the shadows. Alucard quickly followed after and latched onto her arm. And though Anya retaliated, as she swung at him and beat at his chest, he pulled her in and held her. There was no knowing whether or not this had been his intention from the start, and neither could Alucard be heard over Anya's cries as Integra peeked though the crack in the door. Regardless, she was brokenhearted. 

Shutting the door again, she leaned back against it and slid to the floor, "Why didn't you choose me?"   

***

How long has it been, and still these memories stab at my heart.  
I've kept the pendant she gave me. It's still here, hidden all this time under my shirt. I can't bear to part with it, even though it pains me to see it. And knowing she's with you... It only adds to the weight I carry.  
Servant, you are ferocious. How is it that I can't look away?  
Your movements are more aggressive now. As are mine, as I circle my fingers, clutching my breast tighter. My heart is beating faster, nearly in tune with your pounding hips. It's as if you're right in front of me, fucking her on my desk. My breath is heavy, sweat dripping down my brow. I can tell by the look on Anya's face that she's about to come. I remember her voice, the sound of it ringing in my mind as I inch closer to the edge myself. The rush of it fills me as I grow numb.  
She jolts as her lips fall open, and oh, how you smile as you make her come. But, that bit of pride you wear fades quickly as you come yourself, snapping the edge of the table. I can only imagine how you sound.  
I'm so close...  
Shutting my eyes, I shudder as it washes over me. Her face is so clear in my thoughts, her voice like bells. My Anya. I'm coming...oh God, I'm coming. I arch my back, my voice caught in my throat as I rub even harder. This feeling, I've forgotten how blissful it is. Steadily, it fades and I relax in my chair. My cunt is wet and throbbing, and my panties soaking. I glance back to the computer screen. Both of you have disappeared. And now, I must relieve myself of this shame. I retreat to my private washroom, taking with me the spare clothes I hide in my desk. Once I've cleansed myself and changed my clothes, I make my way to my bedroom and begin a fire. I watch as my damp underthings and trousers burn. You two may know what I've done, but no one else can know. Looking up to my mantle, I can see an old photograph, folded and hidden underneath a flower vase. Taking it out, my heart sinks again. Anya is staring back at me, her smile bright as she cradles me to her. I'm tempted to throw it into the flames, but like my pendant, I can't part with it. I can feel my eyes brimming now.  
Why couldn't you choose me?

**Author's Note:**

> I really suck at titles, among other things XD
> 
> Anyway... My silly attempt at a Hellsing fanfic =) More to come, eventually. And, as it's a work in progress, if I miss anything in the tags along the way, let me know.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, terms:
> 
> A stór - my darling


End file.
